Do What You Have To Do
by LittleBird427
Summary: The Ministry has enacted a new Marriage Law and Hermione isn't exempt. SSHG.
1. Default Chapter

Do What You Have To Do  
  
by LittleBird  
  
Summary: The Ministry has enacted a new Marriage Law and Hermione isn't exempt. SS/HG.  
  
Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Authors Note: In response to the Marriage Law challenge issued at WIKTT. This may appear dark in the begining, but plan for this to lighten up.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Hermione opened her morning copy of the Daily Prophet and choked on her pumpkin juice as her eyes were accosted by the onslaught of fresh wedding photos. She threw down the paper between Harry and Ron and the three of them began their morning ritual. Today was a banner day.   
  
The game, as they called it in an effort to reduce the horrible reality, was to be the first to spot a recognizable name or face in the wedding announcements. Not that a wedding would normally be a horrible thing, but since the Ministry passed the Marriage Law a number of months back it had become something of a sick joke with no punchline.  
  
Ministry Degree 7482sj, otherwise known as the Muggle Born Marriage Law in polite circles (and the Mudblood Enslavement Act everywhere else), was enacted by Minister Fudge in response to a scathing exposé of St Mungo's the previous year. The most widely read story in the history of the Daily Prophet was a result of an undercover reporters infiltration of the hospital to determine the effects of inbreeding in the wizarding world. For the first time in its history the number of squibs and childbirth related disabilities were reported. Yearly comparisons were compiled and cross-referenced, and while names were protected, it became clear that the years of intermarriage between pureblood families was working against the Death Eaters plans of a perfect world. Children of pureblood families were far more likely to be squibs and have lower IQ's than children of muggle born and mixed bred wizards. St Mungo's own studies showed that the percentages, already high, were rising exponentially every decade. Follow-up stories were planned to document the whereabouts of these children.  
  
It was however the first and last exposé printed under the short reign of Editor-in-Chief Banter Withens. He was unceremoniously fired the next day. But that news, and many other stories, never made it into future annals of the Daily Prophet. The new Editor, Terrance Parkers, took a different view on such blasphemous reporting.  
  
Fudge tried to stifle the public outcry, but quickly decided that the best course of action was a bad course of action. Fresh blood in the wizarding world would solve the problem, so it stood to reason that muggle born witches should be "introduced" into pureblood society. Of course this wasn't going to happen on it's own, so late one night he and a select few wrote the decree and quickly signed it into law before anyone (namely Albus Dumbledore) could stop them.   
  
The decree stated that any pureblood wizard or head of household could petition for the betrothal of a muggle born witch. All muggle born witches from 18 years and up were required to marry a pureblood wizard within 6 months of the decree, or if not eligible in that time then within 6 months of their 18th birthday. If the witch didn't receive offers within that time frame then they would be assigned a husband by a Ministry lottery. Furthermore, if any eligible witch refused to marry within the allotted time frame she would be required to turn in her wand and all magical licenses and became ineligible for benefits (such as education and employment) in the wizarding world.  
  
"Look at this one" Harry said as he pointed to a rather sadistic looking groom with nothing more than a wisp at his side. "Is this his second or third marriage since the law was passed?" He didn't expect a response from the other two though. Once a wizard was widowed he could marry again, it was easier to not think about what happened to his previous wife -- or wives.  
  
"And what about this one! I don't even think she's blinking -- obviously under Imperio," countered Ron in an attempt to lighten the mood. Even he new that it was a poor attempt at best. None of them wanted to admit it, but there were a lot more pictures like that these days.   
  
When the law was first announced it was scoffed at by many, but attempts to repeal it were met with unexpected resistance. Marches, protests, and mock wand-breakings by affected muggle born witches and their supporters were not covered by "respectable" news organizations. When the first wedding photos came out they showed the Ministry public relations campaign in full swing. Childhood sweethearts and secret loves -- all of whom were not allowed to date publicly much less marry because of pureblood prejudices -- were now happily married and looking forward to starting families. Life, it appeared, was indeed good. However, with all the attention being paid to the weddings splashed across the front page there was much less attention on the notices of death hidden in the middle of the paper. Not too soon afterwards those same smiling couples would make a less celebrated appearance as a result of some unexplained explosion or terrible accident. The fact that the Dark Mark hovered over the deadly scenes was conveniently left unreported by the Daily Prophet and given only a cursory examination by Ministry officials.  
  
Despite the lack of official confirmation, or rather in spite of it, the country was abuzz with fast spreading rumors. Soon no pureblood wizard intent on keeping his life would dare touch a "mudblood" and prejudices were running at an all time high. It was thought that the law would be quickly repealed when suddenly a fresh batch of marriages started taking place. Eligible witches were now being scooped up by known or suspected Death Eaters. Scurried away from their families they usually found themselves working as house slaves or in brothels until they too ended up on the obituary pages.   
  
The Ministry's law was doing what Voldemort and the Death Eaters had so far failed to do -- run the muggle born population out of the country. In fear for their lives many witches were leaving the country in droves, preferably before their 18th birthdays. Those that could afford the expense were going to the Americas or other far reaching continents. Those without resources went into hiding closer by -- hoping that they would not be found. Some were successful, others ended up on the front page in wedding robes with the slack expression indicative of someone under the Imperious curse.  
  
The fact that this was obvious to all yet oblivious to the Ministry was astonishing. Whisperings had begun to associate Voldemort and Fudge saying that Ministry officials were nothing more than unmarked Death Eaters. At dinner tables across the country quiet arguments ensued over whether the law had been a plan of Voldemort and Fudge all along, or whether the law had been enacted innocently and then exploited by Voldemort and his followers. The latter case was losing support the longer the law stayed in force.   
  
With a snort of disgust Hermione closed the paper and gathered her books for class. Ron and Harry quickly followed suit. It was difficult to tell which of the three was more worried about the ramifications of the law. Hermione of course was worried for her own safety, but was already making plans for a future that wouldn't be stopped by this insipid law. Harry was worried for his friend, but more worried that with Voldemort still alive this was one fight in which he couldn't assist. And Ron was just waiting for the opportunity to step up and be the man he secretly wished he was -- the man that Hermione could love.  
  
All three were just glad that her 18th birthday wasn't until the following summer so they would still have their final year at Hogwarts together. One more year to be the golden trio. One more year to enjoy their childhood. One more year to get the damn law repealed. 


	2. Chapter02

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Hermione threw her books down on her already overflowing desk, pulled off her cloak and flung herself onto her bed. "Thank god that's over," she shouted to the empty room. Double potions with Slytherin was always tough, but today seemed especially brutal. That ferret-boy Malfoy kept staring at her all day and once she thought he even winked at her. "No Way! It had to be a trick of the light," she admonished herself. "Besides, if he actually did wink at me I might have to tear my eyes out." She grimaced at that thought, trying to figure out which would be worse -- the loss of her eyes or having to see Malfoy wink at her again. After a heavy sigh to clear her mind she quickly warded the door to her room. She then flung herself half off the bed and dove underneath, and for the millionth time since school began she grabbed for her treasure.  
  
The ratty old shoebox never looked like a treasure to anyone else, but she didn't expect that it would. She carefully opened the shoebox and gazed at the slightly beaten trainers nestled inside. She had explained to her friends that the shoes had belonged to her father and were one of the few things that survived the attack on her parents. They may have been ugly, large, and smelly, but they were her father's and the only tangible evidence that her parents had ever walked this earth. The irony had been lost on them but not her.   
  
Never, not even for a moment, did she feel bad about what she was doing now. There were always too many people lurking about asking questions -- secrets were held in high regard these days. With a quick flick of her wand the shoes shimmered and revealed the true contents of the box. Carefully putting her wand on the bedside table to avoid confusion, she gracefully lifted another wand from the depths of the magical container.  
  
She needn't have bothered keeping the wands separated, as there was no chance of either being confused for the other. Her old wand had been cute, comfortable and unthreatening, the wand of a child. This wand was dangerously sexy, the wand of an adult, and she thought with a sense of pride -- highly illegal.  
  
With her parents death Hermione had been plunged into a haze of despair from which some thought she wouldn't recover. Even the appearance of that appalling law barely registered a flicker within the bright young child. News of the death of an exceptionally bright Ravenclaw "mudblood bride" at a newly fashionable brothel was met with an outward grunt but nothing more. Or so they thought.  
  
She had noticed the mid-term disappearances of the 18-year-old muggle born witches. She heard the rumors of abuse and, more importantly, she heard of the successful escapes to worlds outside the boundaries of the law. She was sure that had her parents been alive she would have already been gone.   
  
Over the years they had allowed her more freedom than most children and with that independence she flourished. There was an unspoken understanding that they knew what was happening in her world, but also the sad acceptance that she couldn't just walk away. A bright future was at stake and the Grangers, ever intent on spoiling their only child, would never ask her to give up on her dreams.  
  
It wasn't until too late that she realized she gave up on her most important dream. Not a day went by that she didn't blame herself for her parents death. She also couldn't help thinking that had they been around when the final blow -- that law -- had been struck, it would have been the last straw. With the loss of her future they would have pulled her out of the school and gone far away. If she was honest with herself she would have to admit that she would have gone with them. Right then and there. For all her posturing over the years she wanted to get away from this magical world. It didn't hold the same childish allure that had captured her imagination all those years ago. She had finally seen the real world of magic -- and she wanted out.  
  
So she did what Hermione Granger always did when confronted with a problem. She planned, she researched, she studied and she didn't give up until she succeeded.  
  
To the muggle world Hermione Granger was dead. The Death Eaters had made sure that three unidentifiable bodies were pulled from the wreckage, or at least enough pieces to assume that there were three of them. The coroner had been dismayed at the thought that even dental records couldn't assist in identifying the dentist's daughter. Somewhere in his head he thought of the shoemakers children before remembering to call his wife to hold dinner for him.  
  
In a strange way she should have thanked them for the autonomy that came from her apparent death. No longer bound to any muggle law and feeling no particular allegiance to magical laws she sought assistance underground. The restricted section of the library, with its allure of black magic, and the now flourishing black-market became her salvation. She was a talented girl and whatever she couldn't make she would buy.  
  
Her first venture had been the wand. Her childhood wand had been purchased at Mr. Ollivander's shop. She held back tears as she vividly remembered that day in the dusty store. Her parents, a picture of nervous pride, watched as she swished her way through countless wands looking for the right mix. It was no surprise to her parents when the owner commented on her remarkable ability, but after a stern reminder that she was a child and needed to control her blossoming talents he convinced them to go with a slightly less powerful "training" wand. His look of consolation was lost on the child, but his quickly whispered "come back after graduation and we'll set you up right -- I believe you'll grow up to be a rather stunning eleven inch rosewood with a unicorn base" seemed to do the trick.  
  
At the time she just tucked the information away as a pleasant promise, but as she began her research she realized that never were more important words spoken to her. There was a reason that Mr. Ollivander's shop was filled with boxes of different wands. The length and strength of the wand, determined by the wood base, wasn't too difficult to catalog. But when you added in the various core materials available -- the combinations were staggering. She had expected to take months creating the right wand, and at one point during her research was tempted to look towards the black market for assistance. However, rationalizing that the man was highly regarded for his wand making abilities, she threw caution to the wind and decided to attempt his earlier suggestion.   
  
She was more than pleased with the results.   
  
Finishing the wand just before summer break, she was determined to use her private time to get used to its new feel. As she made it herself it wasn't cataloged and therefore would not be subject to Ministry regulations -- that was, after all, the whole point. Mr. Ollivander was right when he said she had a training wand. Her new wand was much more powerful. She could feel the energy emanating from it just by holding her hand over it's highly polished finish. Late at night when sleep eluded her she would think about her unregistered wand and would fantasize of blasting the Minister with a few untraceable unforgivables. "Take that you pervert" she would have yelled at his shocked expression. Sleep might not have come quicker, but deep down inside she knew she was taking back a little of what was taken from her. If only in spirit.  
  
As she no longer had a home of her own, most of her summer was spent shuttling between Hogwarts, number twelve Grimmauld Place, and anywhere else that Professor Dumbledore thought would provide the most appropriate chaperon. One thing to be said for the man, he was a rather attentive guardian. She needed only carelessly mention a need or wish and it was done. New school robes? Why, no need to go to Diagon Alley -- the shop owner came to the school and fitted her on the spot. Some light reading? Well, he just opened up his personal library to her (yes, I'm finding lots of interesting books -- you've been very helpful indeed). But she needed private time to move her plans along, so when her time of the month came she finally broke down and told him that despite his overwhelming desire to help, there were just some things that a young woman needed to do alone. With his confused look spurring her on she add "or perhaps discuss with another woman." At this he cleared his throat and called for Minerva. Things got a lot less complicated after that.  
  
Never one to waste an opportunity, her time with the order also proved useful. An overly successful night of poker with Tonks and Lupin took care of "private" apparation lessons (apparently they had never heard of marked cards -- who knew?) But the regular appearance of Mundungus Fletcher and his bag of bootleg trinkets provided the biggest windfall. Through his unscrupulous acquaintances she acquired a new muggle identity - right down to the birth certificate and passport. Even with her friendly discount it didn't come cheap, but they were a good quality so well worth the price.   
  
Pushing past the identity papers in her treasure box she pulled out a stack of applications and a ballpoint pen before settling in for some work. Like most students her age the applications were to Universities. However, unlike the other students at Hogwarts, all of them had three things in common: one, they were located far away from ministry controlled areas; two, they weren't in any way associated with magical universities; and three, they all had scholarships available to overseas students. With a numbered post office box in Hogsmeade and use of black-market owls "Kaitlyn Saoirse" was continuing her education elsewhere.  
  
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A/N: The name Kaitlyn is Celtic/Gaelic for Pure, and Saoirse is also Celtic/Gaelic for Freedom. -- This according to babynames.com. 


	3. Chapter03

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
After a glance at her bedroom clock Hermione decided it was time to head out to the library for some extended research and study time. She put her applications back, and with one last loving caress of her home-made wand she placed it on top of her other treasures. A quick flick of her old wand made the trainers opaque. She then carefully replaced the cover and stashed the box back under her bed. She hated leaving her new source of protection, but if anyone found it she knew she would lose more than just house points. She consoled herself that -- just knowing it was there, ready when she needed it, was enough.  
  
Running out the door she ran into Ginny. "Ooof... Where are you off to in such a hurry?"  
  
Her roommate throughout much of the summer, she had petitioned to room with the younger student during her final year. She would have dearly loved to room by herself, but that privilege was only open to the Head Boy and Girl. After her dismal previous year and her uncertain future she knew there was no way she could have been awarded that honor. When, due to the large number of non-returning female students, extra rooms became available she was not surprised that her bunkmates suggested she look for more private accommodations. It was almost laughable the way they jumped over themselves with excuses to room elsewhere. Not that she was surprised. They had never really been friends to begin with, and prolonged association with her would make them easy targets. She was forever grateful when her young friend jumped at the chance to share a room. Ginny had waved away her safety concerns with a delicate sweep of her hand saying that she wasn't in any more danger rooming with her than she was dating Harry. Hermione had to admit that was true, and although she remained concerned she put in the rooming request.  
  
"I'm heading out to the Library. I've been researching the properties --"  
  
"Wait!" Ginny called while holding up her hand in mock defeat. "My classes are over for the day, and I'm on a break" she laughed. "Why don't you skive off the library just for one day and hang out in the common room for awhile." Quickly sensing that she wasn't getting through to her friend she tried a more underhanded approach. "Harry and Ron really miss you. You know that they can't get into the girls rooms and aside from class you're never around." When Hermione started to protest Ginny overrode her and spoke in her best Molly Weasley voice "forget the others! I don't care if their faces freeze with the funny looks they give you. They can all sod off! Your friends want you to join them in the common room and I think you should abide by their wishes."  
  
Hermione chuckled softly and rolled her eyes. "Ok, I promise to be in the common room after dinner for a nice relaxing evening by the fire, but for now I do need to head to the library." As an afterthought she put her hand up and said rather dramatically "I promise." Apparently that did the trick and Ginny finally let her leave.  
  
&&&&&  
  
Rounding the corner to her favorite table she noticed Draco and his shadows hiding behind a row of books. Not interested in receiving another disturbing wink she ducked into a private reading alcove to wait them out. Minutes later she wasn't sure if that had been a good move. They were obviously deep in conversation with no intention of leaving, and now she was trapped. 'Well might as well hear them out' she thought. Truthfully she would have rather jumped into the restricted section for that transfiguration textbook, but when you're stuck. Well, you're stuck.  
  
"So how are you getting her?" The voice of Goyle she surmised. 'Oh gods, she was going to have to listen to the details of yet another Slytherin conquest. Spare me from bragging boys' she thought disgustedly.  
  
"I just told my father all I wanted for Christmas was my own mudblood. It's such a hassle heading in town to enjoy them." His sick laugh cut right through her. Now she had to listen to find out the name of the unlucky girl. Perhaps if she got word to the Order they would be able to get the poor girl out of the country. Knowing that Malfoy was on the prowl should certainly hasten their departure.  
  
"It's a shame that those mudblood wizards aren't up for grabs," said Goyle. "Think they're going to make them available next?"  
  
"What are you going on about? You haven't turned to the other side have you?" Draco sounded like his interest had been piqued.  
  
"Well, they stand up so much better to hexes. It's almost pointless to practice an unforgivable on a witch, they break too easy --"  
  
"True, but what pureblood witch would sully herself with a mudblood wizard? Her reputation would be shot and she would never get a respectable wizard after that." Draco continued knowingly "That's why the Ministry didn't include them in the first place. I could care less about them though, just as long as I get my entertainment."  
  
"You are so lucky that you've turned 18. I have to wait until March and they'll all be gone by then." That had to be Crabbe - she would recognize his whine anywhere.  
  
"Well, I'm not the issue as much is she is, or was. Can you imagine that she aged a good part of a year with a timeturner and nobody even knew it?" At their unintelligible grunting he snorted and continued on "father has been working on this for quite some time. He's had an awful time convincing the board that the timeturner should be added to her age. Dumbledore has been fighting him every step of the way, but as always my father has come out victorious."  
  
Hermione wasn't sure she was breathing at this point. The pain in her chest was overwhelming and the ringing in her ears was such that she tried to convince herself she was hearing things. She tried deluding herself that they were talking about someone else, but it was too much of a stretch to think that there was any other muggle born witch that used a timeturner as much as she had in her third year.  
  
"So, you're going to share her aren't you?" She could practically see Goyle's leer from the confines of her hiding spot.  
  
"Well, perhaps once she's been broken in. Father said he has plans to teach me some rather interesting techniques on her. I don't really have the proper tools at school, but we have a room at home that's fully stocked." Draco started to inventory the room when Madame Pince rounded the corner and shooed them away.  
  
A few steps farther and she came across a pale and shaking Hermione. "Child are you alright?"   
  
"Yes, fine -- I --" Hermione stammered and then turned and fled the library. She had to see Dumbledore and fast.  
  
&&&&&  
  
In her haste to talk to the headmaster she bounded up the steps to his office two at a time. The Gargoyle had presented no problem as it was spelled to allow her entrance regardless of what she yelled at it. Being a ward of the school had its perks. She still remembered his soothing words of protection after the death of her parents. He was personally taking over her guardianship to make sure that her future in the wizarding world was secure. He chuckled and said that she should think of him as her security blanket. She had laughed at that, her first in a long time. The laugh had turned into a sob and she soon found herself comforted by the grandfatherly embrace of the most powerful wizard of her time.  
  
"Security Blanket my ASS!" she screamed as she stormed into his office. Too intent in having her say uninterrupted she didn't waste time in noticing his shocked expression.   
  
"Don't worry about this Marriage Law Hermione," she mimicked him nastily. "Everything will work out just fine. I'm looking out for your best interests." She turned to glare at him and continued shouting "and with a pat on the ass and a shove out the door you forget all about me and leave me to That-- That-- Sadistic Death Eater-in-Training!"  
  
As much as Dumbledore expected an outburst from his young charge this was nothing like he expected. He had just heard that afternoon that his final appeal in her case had been overturned and had been busy making plans to secure her safety. He hadn't expected her to find out anything before they were set. The fact was that he didn't know how much she actually knew or how she had found out, meant he would have to tread cautiously. He should have learned by now that keeping his headstrong Gryffindors in the dark was a mistake, but he was an old man and settled in his ways. Grudgingly he admitted to himself that he had used that excuse far too many times before, and that this time he might have to own up to his mistakes.  
  
"Child--" he started.  
  
"Don't You Child Me Old Man" she shouted in return.  
  
Pausing a minute to compose himself he continued. "Hermione, please sit down and we'll talk."  
  
"Talk? Oh, now you want to talk? How many times have I come to you to talk about leaving the country? Each time you tell me I have plenty of time. Well, now it appears that time is running out -- So?" She looked at him, daring him to respond.  
  
"So?" He responded slowly, not sure whether she was expecting a response or just pausing between tirades. This was not a Hermione he would enjoy spending time with.  
  
"How-Much-Time-Do-I-Have-Before-They-Can-Marry-Me-Off" she said between gritted teeth.  
  
Dumbledore signed and thought for a moment that right now he would give anything for the ability to apparate off Hogwarts grounds. He then looked her straight in the eye (actually he scanned the room for a portkey first), and said calmly "by adding your experiences with the timeturner to your age, you turned 18 years old today."  
  
Silence.  
  
More Silence.  
  
After a few minutes under her hollow stare he began thinking he liked it better when she was yelling at him.  
  
After a deep cleansing breath Hermione slowly and calmly opened her mouth and said "so, when and how do I leave?"  
  
"You can't" he replied.  
  
"I can't what?"  
  
"Leave." The uneasiness, which never really left, was coming back strongly.  
  
"Why Not?" She asked the question with a deceptive calmness, but that didn't fool him. 'Ohhh this is a trap' he thought, 'but one that I believe I actually set for myself.'   
  
"Hermione, you have to trust--"  
  
"TRUST?" Oh yes the shouting was back. "You speak to me of TRUST?"  
  
He cleared his throat as much to get her attention as to stall for some time. "Hermione, I have been working on contingency plans to assure your place in the wizarding world. If you would just sit down and hear me out."  
  
"Newsflash Mister Security Blanket -- I don't want to play the know-it-all witch anymore. I have no plans to stay in your wizarding world." With that she took out her wand and clasped it between both her hands. As she held the wand out in front of herself, he watched as her fingers turned white from the strain of bending the hard wood.  
  
~CRACK~  
  
.  
  
he-he-he don'tcha just love cliffhangers?  
  
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A/N: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews -- I'm speechless!! I'm glad you are all enjoying the twist on this story. I've loved all the other Marriage Law challenges that I've read, but it bothered me that Hermione was more or less resigned to getting married. I always pictured her as being someone that would believe the law was just plain wrong, and in front of a full media storm give the Ministry a rude hand gesture before heading off to another country (after all the Ministry only has authority in the UK or maybe Europe, but not the whole world). I wanted to write that story, but one it didn't meet the challenge rules, and two it would have been a very short story -- or not, maybe Severus would join her in protest --- hummmm insert sound of brain waves churning here..... Anyway, that's why I decided to make this more of "an offer she couldn't refuse."   
  
To all who mentioned the timeturner... I should note that I had a really hard time figuring out Hermione's age (actually the age of all the students) for this story. I wanted the required age to be 18, but also for her to be in school (it is after all supposed to be a HG/SS pairing, and if she had already left school I couldn't see her coming back to be with him -- me? I would, but she's not that bright ;-) If her birthday was over the summer than she would be 17 for all of her final (7th) year at school. If her birthday was in the winter then she would turn 18 (and thereby be eligible anyway) half way through the school year. Since I didn't want her able to leave before her 18th birthday (although I still say she would in a heartbeat!!) I added the timeturner twist... cop out I know but it's my story and I'll play with it all I want ;-)  
  
spaz141 - it's interesting that you brought up the exclusion of wizards in this law. The rules of the challenge actually refer to witches, but not wizards (I checked again) -- but I had already planned that the wizards wouldn't be required to participate as I wanted to add one more indignity to this already insulting law. Strange I know, but just one more reason to hate the law ;-)  
  
Snape's Witch - Thanks for the catch!! I hate when spell check works too well. 


	4. Chapter04

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
~CRACK~  
  
Hermione barely had time to register the almost silent "Expelliarmus" issued from the furious Potions Master. In a flash of light her wand had been instantly pulled from her grasp and was now tightly clasped in his shaking fist. Hermione turned to the man and matched his angry stare. 'Keep it' she thought 'I have a spare.'  
  
"Enough" he spat out. "This despicable, and frankly childish, display has gone on long enough."  
  
He slowly began to ease his way from the shadowy confines of the adjacent sitting room. Hermione briefly wondered if he had been there the whole time. Considering her state when she entered the room she would not have noticed if he had been seated in Dumbledore's place.  
  
In the short time it took for him to move beside her his anger had turned to contempt. "Miss Granger, for someone who spends her days declaring that she knows everything, it amazes me how often you confirm that you in fact know nothing."  
  
How dare he! Her life was unraveling and all he can do is throw insults? She wanted to hold him down and cause him pain, but without a wand she could do little more than rant. Appreciating that for now he had the upper hand she held her tongue and waited for him to continue.   
  
Severus Snape looked at the child before him and noticed her pink tinged cheeks, sparkling eyes, and untamed hair. Had he not just witnessed her outburst, and discounting the firm set of her mouth, she could have passed for any one of the dunderheads returning from a romp into Hogsmeade.  
  
"Say and do whatever you must Severus but this must be successful," the headmaster had told him just before she arrived. Although he could appreciate the need for flattery that had never been his style. An overpowering presence with a contemptuous sneer and acerbic tone -- these were his verbal tools of choice and, as he preferred to invoke fear, he worked them to great success. It had been made clear to him that this encounter should be handled differently.  
  
He understood the request and knew the role he was expected to play, but still found it difficult to choke out his next words. "If you leave the wizarding world then they win. Everything you have worked for--" at this he paused his jaw clenching briefly before continuing, "that we have all worked for these past years will be wasted."  
  
"I'm not adverse to helping out our cause, but I'm not going throw away my future in a worthless sacrifice" was her haughty retort.   
  
Try as he might he couldn't keep from sneering at those two words. Our Cause indeed. It had been quite some time since he had been allowed to focus on something other than 'A Cause.' Your cause, my cause, their cause, our cause -- between Voldemort and Dumbledore he had quite enough of useless causes. What he really wanted was a way out of the nightmare he was about to embark upon.   
  
All that academic intellect had been wasted on her. He didn't mean the pureblood versus mudblood debate, for that had ceased to be an issue for him years ago. He now placed anyone focusing on either side of that argument in the same category -- useless, lazy, sycophant looking for an easy ride. What he thought to be a waste was her lack of focus and planning. She had more intelligence than any two of his other students combined, but more often than not she spent her time on poorly planned schemes that took far too many chances and amounted to nothing. The Polyjuice potion debacle in her second year had proved that. Oh yes, she had successfully brewed a difficult potion -- one that was far beyond her years and supposed capabilities, but what did it get her? An extended trip to the infirmary for a few minutes with Draco Malfoy to find out what everyone else knew all along -- Malfoy had no idea who opened the chamber. He nastily thought that had she and her cohorts spent time looking at their own circle of friends it might never have been opened to begin with. The Polyjuice potion incident did only one thing in the potion master's eyes, it confirmed for him that his most academically brilliant mind was a liability and would never amount to anything more than Harry Potter's sidekick.   
  
For that reason he wasn't particularly interested in assisting in this endeavor -- let the bloody Gryffindor hang for all he cared. But when one of his masters called he was required to obey. What did she know of sacrifices anyway? She sat in her ivory tower while the rest of the order scurried around making sure she was safe. He had seen enough of her over the summer, both at the school and the order headquarters, to be sickened by the way Dumbledore bowed to her every wish. There were times when he wondered if she had secretly taken over and was now calling the shots.  
  
His bitter reverie was interrupted by the headmaster's words. He knew they were meant to comfort the child, to provide her a (in his mind false) sense of security. As much as he didn't agree with the old man it wasn't his choice to keep her around. But of course all roads led back to Harry Bloody Potter. He wouldn't be surprised if the old man was just keeping her around to be a final sacrificial lamb during the battle of the century. If that was his plan, so be it.  
  
"I understand your desire to leave, and if you were anyone else I would be the first to assist you. However, due to your notoriety in certain circles we were afraid that allowing you to leave the school would be akin to abandonment on our part." As she opened her mouth to speak he plowed on, not giving her the chance. "You have to understand that there are many people who see you as a beacon of hope. A powerful, intelligent Muggle-born witch is a strong symbol to counter Voldemort's ignorant ramblings."  
  
Severus Snape watched in admiration as the elderly wizard paused to allow the words to float around the young witch. 'Nothing like a good dose of flattery to dull the pain,' he thought. He loved to watch the old man work. It was a thing of pure depravity the way he twisted his charges to fit his devious plans. 'Don't worry child, you aren't the only one around here to be sucked into this' he thought wryly.   
  
After allowing sufficient time for the flattery to ease his way the skilled politico continued "Unfortunately there are others that see you as a danger and would like to see you broken. We have it under reliable authority that any attempts to circumvent their plans will end poorly." Although his meaning was clear to all he continued anyway "surely you have seen the Imperio brides in the Daily Prophet?"  
  
"So what are you saying, is that I have no choice but to take Draco's offer to become the Slytherin sex toy until they tire of me and end my life?" Although the words were harsh there was a slight quiver in her voice as she faced the apparent reality. Shaking her head slightly and hoping for a flippant tone she continued, "well, I guess I won't die a virgin after all."   
  
At her carelessly thrown comment the potions master was instantly intrigued. "Miss Granger, Are you indeed a virgin or are you merely professing an undeserved chastity to deceive your guardian? I would have thought by now that your little dream team would have turned into a Ménage à trois by now."  
  
"Severus!" Dumbledore gave him a look of reproach and continued on "It will not help the situation to throw insults. I think --"  
  
"Headmaster, I could care less how she wishes to be portrayed to the world," he snapped. "My concern is for the physical truth to her statement. If she is indeed a virgin that could prove useful."   
  
She wasn't sure she wanted to know about a plan in which her virginity would be helpful. In fact she wasn't sure why she even mentioned it in the first place. It was none of their business and not something she particularly wanted to share with anyone -- much less the two men now carefully examining her.   
  
"Low morals are indicative of Slytherin sir, not Gryffindor." Snape just raised his eyebrow at her in response.   
  
"Yes, the unicorns still love me" she threw at them. Actually, she didn't think they were all that enamored with her, but she wouldn't really know as they seldom spent time together. True, on the rare occasions that she entered the forest one or two would find their way to her side, but in front of others she made it a point to stay away from the lovely animals. It was no secret that unicorns preferred virgins (female mostly) and would run from anyone else. Knowing this, and knowing how some boys felt about conquering virgins, she preferred to keep her distance from the all-telling animals. She knew what people thought of her friendship with Harry and Ron and even encouraged it. Maybe she would have gotten more dates had it not been for her two steady 'boyfriends', but in long run she preferred to wait for someone interested in her -- rather than just bragging rights to what was between her legs.  
  
Dumbledore, obviously embarrassed at the personal intrusion, cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Well, be that as it may, I'm sure you are interested in what we have all be doing on your behalf?" The largely rhetorical question was met with an untrusting gaze. "For some time now we had word that you were a potential victim of this law, but were unsure of how to proceed."  
  
Hermione thought that getting her out sooner would have been the most preferable option, but as they obviously felt that was not an option she kept silent and waited to hear their brilliant plan.  
  
"Then yesterday Severus had an inspired idea --"  
  
"Don't you dare blame me for this catastrophe!" It was clear that the long-time spy was not in favor of the headmaster's plan of choice.  
  
"Well, no... but you have to admit that the plan initially sprung from a comment made by you." The headmaster seemed amused by his outburst, but Hermione wasn't fooled. He had a way of twisting the words of others to suit his own needs.  
  
"What exactly was the comment -- or the plan? Either will do at this point, I won't be picky."  
  
Ignoring the snappish tone of her comment the headmaster plowed on. "Professor Snape mentioned that we should find you a safe Death Eater. I remember a sarcastic comment about the ministry believing there were so many of them around these days." A wry smile crossed his lips.  
  
"And Draco Malfoy is what you would consider a safe Death Eater?" She couldn't believe her ears, were they really going to do this to her?   
  
"No Miss Granger, the combined members of the Order of the Phoenix believe that I would be that safe Death Eater," Snape said through gritted teeth.  
  
After the initial shock wore off she looked into the face of her dreaded, greasy git of a potions professor and said dryly, "I certainly hope that wasn't your idea of a proposal."  
  
"Well then, that settles it!" Dumbledore, acknowledging the levity of the comment, appeared happy for the first time since she stormed into his office. "All the --"  
  
"SOD OFF! I have no intention of marrying him."  
  
The headmaster looked agitated and reverted to a much more formal tone "well, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this Miss Granger, but the matter is now out of your hands. As of this afternoon you were officially added to the Ministry Marriage Registry and the petition on behalf of yourself and Professor Snape has been accepted."  
  
After a moment she turned her head slightly and bit the inside of her cheek trying to focus away her threatening tears. If this was one time when tears would be unacceptable this was it. She tried to think of a happy time in this world, something to remind her why she was here -- why she had chosen this life. Her mind came up empty. The search for a pleasant memory had traipsed through so many of her nightmares that she reverted to her new mantra 'forget about the past and focus on the future.'  
  
"So how does my virginity become an issue?" she asked, for nothing more than to jump-start her brain.  
  
The headmaster stayed silent and allowed Snape to answer. "I think your virginity could be very useful to myself and to the Dark Lord."  
  
Oh great, now she would be used as a pawn for him also? At her shocked expression he sneered "I have to intention of spoiling you for Potter and Weasley. Others however, will be anticipating your availability for regular entertaining. I expect that the headmaster wishes you to remain chaste until this ordeal is over?" The headmaster, though not meeting his gaze, nodded in acquiescence and Snape continued. "If Miss Granger is indeed a virgin," he smirked at her look of outrage, "then even after an Obliviate or two she would surely notice the discomfort of a new and rather overly enthusiastic sex life."   
  
He ignored the furious blush in her delicate cheeks, and continued on rather forcefully. "As she would no doubt report those activities it would certainly jeopardize my position with this school -- something that the Dark Lord would not like to have happen."   
  
Thankfully, further discussion on the topic was halted by the sound of tapping on a rather ornate stained glass window. Snape stepped over to open it and allowed in a large ministry owl. Landing easily on the desk before the headmaster, the owl quickly dropped its cargo and gave a stern squawk. After a quick but formal bow it immediately flew back from where it came. Closing the window on the rapidly fading twilight, Snape's gaze met Dumbledore's own stern expression and Hermione realized that they had been waiting for this particular missive.  
  
Dumbledore carefully broke the wax seal of the Ministry's Marriage Registry Bureau and scanned the contents of the scroll briefly. "Well, as we expected Lucius Malfoy is contesting the acceptance of your marriage petition." Snape nodded briefly and Dumbledore continued "The hearing will be held tomorrow morning at the Ministry's London office."  
  
"Well Miss Granger," Snape drawled, "it appears that you have a choice of husbands after all."  
  
Hermione looked at him blandly and replied, "It's not much of a choice though, is it?"  
  
"Miss Granger," the headmaster began softly. "This is not a life, or death, sentence for you. Professor Snape has agreed to look out for you -- at great personal risk I might add -- until this ordeal has ended. According to wizarding law as long as the marriage is not consummated then you will be able to have it annulled without question."  
  
"That won't even be an issue, I assure you."   
  
Snape may have spoken the words, but she gave a small start at how they mirrored her own thoughts. She never dreamed that her first marriage would be a sexless farce. Indeed she never thought that she would be talking in terms of first or second. While she understood that for the time being this was an unpleasant necessity, she couldn't help but compare it to her past romantic entanglements.   
  
She wasn't an ugly girl by any means, and with a bit more of an effort to be stylish she could be stunning. However, her bookish nature had put her into the friend category so early in life that by the time she realized she wanted something more it seemed hopeless. Her friends had already paired up -- on more than one occasion -- and had exploits far beyond her own ambitions. Ron had offered to rectify the situation (as he saw it) on many occasions, but she knew it was only friendly banter. She suspected that he loved her, but more in that -- you're my friend, but when I'm unattached and you're looking good, maybe we can be friends with benefits? -- and she wanted more than that. She wasn't looking for the storybook romance, or even the romance novel (although rip a few pages from those books and she wouldn't complain). She wanted a real life, a real commitment, and a real man. One with staying power that was willing to work through the rigours of marriage and raising a family. One that could be witty and intelligent one minute, and understand her need for solitude and study the next. Glancing at the face of her apparent fiancé it seemed that part of her future would be put on hold.  
  
"Hermione -- " her musings were interrupted by the headmaster. Upon observing the varied looks of the two men, she realized they had been trying to gain her attention for some time. "I believe it would be safest if you returned to your room and stayed there until the hearing. There is no need to force a display of this situation until it has been fully resolved. I'll have your meals sent to your room for you."  
  
With some trepidation she nodded her head curtly and turned to leave.  
  
"Severus," he continued, "Would you be so kind as to escort Miss Granger to the tower?" At the scowl on his face the headmaster tossed out "come now, you'll be surrounded by so many Gryffindors I'm sure you'll be able to deduct lots of points."  
  
The younger wizard merely turned on his heel and walked to the chamber doors. Holding them open and then following her down the revolving staircase he quickly took up stride next to her as they continued the remainder of their walk in silence.  
  
She was relieved that upon reaching the entrance to the common room they hadn't come across any other students. The Fat Lady said not a word as they approached, but regarded the rival professor with a caustic eye. As the portrait swung open to quickly admit its young ward Hermione paused for a moment as if willing herself to say something. Realizing that with the enormity of what was yet undiscussed there was nothing to be said, she quietly continued into the common room.   
  
She never saw that her protector had long since turned and disappeared down the hallway, her wand rolling idly in his fingers.  
  
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A/N: Before anyone catches this -- I know that Expelliarmus is the disarming spell and maybe I should have used Accio Wand, but one - it sounds better, and two - I thought it would more dramatic (ie with lights and sounds!) For anyone worried that it wouldn't have ended up in his hand afterwards he could have picked it up off the floor (although I think he would have grabbed it as it flew through the air -- he's so very talented ;-)  
  
OK, it's official -- I'm a review junkie hanging head in shame and just a few quick comments:  
  
shiv5468 - I for one will be very sad if you don't write your marriage story. I can't wait to read your take on it!!  
  
Deb ^..^ . - Ahhhh if you are surprised now, wait and see what I have in store for you!! (oops -- shouldn't say that -- what if I can't live up to the expectations!!)  
  
mother - 'Ya know from the end of GOF and all of OOTP I was wondering the same thing... Nobody could be that egotistically blind -- Could they?  
  
Sukkumbus - Please don't cry -- I have bronchitis and have run out of tissues to share!!  
  
For anyone left still reading the author's notes -- I've been a bit worried about the pace of this story. I originally thought that all of this would be two chapters max by now, but everything seemed to take longer to flush out properly. Then the last chapter seemed rushed (I had tons of interruptions and trouble focusing). I'm hoping this chapter is back on pace -- or not, maybe it's too slow? Alas, sometimes it seems like I'm writing in a vacuum, so if anyone is interested in beta'ing... :-) 


	5. Chapter05

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
With the concerned stares of her friends following her, Ginny left the Gryffindor Common Room and headed for her sleeping quarters. Carefully opening the door to her darkened room she saw the figure of her roommate crouched over her bed quickly covering her precious treasure box.  
  
Ginny had seen the looks thrown at her by the other Gryffindors lounging in the common room and knew she had to check on her friend. When Hermione had entered the room she had looked about to make a quick getaway before turning around and stiffly walking to her bedroom, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. She was sickened when she overheard a comment thrown at Hermione's retreating back "look at the mudblood -- too good for us I guess," and the agreeing, "good riddance." She understood that many would be afraid to associate with a 'Death Eater orphan' for fear of retaliation, but she was their housemate and friend. Ginny couldn't even count how many times Hermione had put her own needs aside to assist others. When she needed support however, they were nowhere to be found. It wasn't as if the entire school had turned against her, but they were vocal enough to quell the mutiny from her supporters. It brought to mind the quote 'In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.' She could only imagine what her friend would remember when this was all over.  
  
"Mione?" She began carefully, "is everything ok? You said you were going to join us in the common room tonight. Did you forget?" She was trying for lighthearted banter, and thought she succeeded fairly well.  
  
"Oh-- sorry Ginny, I did forget. I've had a lot on my mind I guess." She speculated that the other girl was going for that 'Absent Minded Professor' tone, but stifled the giggle just in case.  
  
"Anything wrong?"  
  
"Just a bump in the road, slight detour -- nothing I can't handle," Ginny heard her friend reply over-confidently. After all that had happened in the last year she had never heard her so undaunted. She remembered looking up to the older witch during her earlier years at school and modeling herself after the girl academically. Just academically mind you, as her personal life was non-existent. For all of the talk around school of Hermione's 'special friendship' with Ron and her beloved Harry, she knew the truth. She also knew what that particular lie was covering. So while she may very well be the schools biggest gossip since her mother, when it came to anything Hermione Granger -- her lips were sealed.  
  
Walking further into the room she cast a quick "Lumos" and flopped onto her own bed. Noticing that her roommate's wand wasn't in its usual place on her nightstand she casually asked about it. For such an innocent question, she hadn't expected the dissertation that followed.  
  
Ginny sat patiently and listened as Hermione summarized the unimaginable events that had taken place since they had last talked. She described in detail the disturbing conversation overheard in the library. She then went on to construct an unimaginable story involving a very unusual plan, while admitting to throwing an array of wholly inappropriate comments at the gentle headmaster and the most feared professor the school had even employed.  
  
Finally after noting the silence indicative of a completed story, Ginny asked rather hesitantly, "So Snape's got it?"   
  
"Got what?" was the guarded reply.  
  
"Your wand. I asked you where your wand was."  
  
With an exasperated sigh Hermione threw her hands in the air and said "Yes, he has my wand -- he grabbed it from me before I could break it, and I think he still had it when he was walking me back here. I was going to go back for it, but-- honestly Ginny, did you not hear a word I said?"  
  
The younger girl, realizing she needed to proceed with caution, began slowly "Mione, I know you've been under a lot of stress lately, and this law very unsettling for you--"  
  
"You don't believe me!"  
  
"Mione, you're not even 18 yet and won't be until the end of summer. I'm telling you, don't worry about this law. It won't affect you." Ginny didn't really understand where her friend's fabrication was coming from, but she knew that a conversation with Professor McGonagall was in order. With regular meetings the two had been keeping a close (and quiet) eye on her since her bout of depression. While Harry and Ron were great to pal around with (well Harry was great at other things too), the Professor correctly surmised that the boys didn't have the tact necessary to participate in such a delicate task.   
  
After an appropriate grieving period the main concern for everyone had been to bring back their Gryffindor know-it-all. When she pulled herself out of her own self-imposed stupor they happily moved on to greener pastures -- taking their recently returned friend along for the ride. Professor McGonagall wasn't so quick to be dissuaded. She had feared that her newly found strength would at times falter and was ready to give her the necessary support, but not with the heavy-handed approach that the boys doled out so regularly. She had enlisted the help of the younger girl to keep tabs on her roommate's activities. For all their meetings though, neither of them had ever discussed a scenario in which she turned delusional.  
  
"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you that part. Do you remember me telling you about my using the timeturner in my third year?" Ginny nodded and waited for another boring installment of "As the Timeturner Turns" staring Hermione Granger. With a wry smile she instead continued, "well, it appears that my extra time has been added to my age -- Dumbledore just informed me that I've turned 18 years old today."  
  
Shocked by the fact that her account could possibly be true, Ginny said the first thing that came to her mind. "Wow... Umm... Happy Birthday Mione."   
  
Just as the words left her mouth she realized how unbelievably stupid and insensitive they were. Looking at the other girl's expression of horror she decided she needed backup to handle the unfamiliar situation. While Professor McGonagall was great with the understated support, her conversations tended to be stilted and awkward. Ginny quickly decided that what the distraught girl needed was to be in a place where she felt free to express herself, and there was really only one place for that. So with a false sense of giddiness she suggested that they go visit Harry and Ron for some much needed relief from the situation.  
  
Seeing that Ginny was obviously out of her league and definitely wanting to quell the animosity she felt building towards her, Hermione seemed to ponder the idea. Then remembering the headmaster's words she shook her head and said "I can't, Dumbledore told me to stay in my room until the hearing tomorrow."  
  
Not able to stop herself, Ginny just looked at her -- and with a twinkle in her eye very much like to the old man's, replied, "what's he going to do if he finds out... make you marry Snape?"  
  
Feeling the stirrings of rebelliousness at the truthfulness of the comment, she jumped off the bed and called out, "You're Right -- I'm In, Let's Go!"  
  
By the time they got to the boys room a bit of apprehension had entered the two of them. After sneaking past the throngs of students in the common room, Hermione was again reminded of how disconnected she was from the rest of the students. Ginny on the other hand was more worried about what they would encounter when they told the boys. Although they kept quiet about it, she figured that the two of them talked about her eligibility status and would not have been surprised if they were planning some crazy scheme. That it was now out of their hands, she knew, would not sit well with them. That is if they believed it, which truthfully she still wasn't even sure if she did.  
  
With a quick knock on the door and an "are you decent?" Ginny flung open the door and bounded in. Accustomed to her usual entrance the occupants of the room grumbled jokingly and chuckled until they came across the sight of their second visitor. Hermione stood in the door looking apprehensive at best. This used to be a room where she felt welcomed. She was the one that would fling open the door and come bursting in with the enthusiasm of youth. As she stood in the doorway she thought about how much had changed and wondered how much of it was her own fault. As if on cue she moved into the room and found some clarity in the actions that followed.  
  
Seamus Finnigan quickly rose from his bed and grumbled something about dinner as he headed for the door. Before leaving however, he shot Hermione a scathing look that reminded her why she avoided most of the other students. She supposed (or rather hoped) that Seamus' anger was directed more at the situation than at her, but you couldn't be sure these days. It was almost as if he personally blamed her for his father's desertion and Dean Thomas' departure from school.   
  
The two boys had been best friends since their first year without any regard to Dean's muggle heritage. In fact, Seamus' own mixed heritage provided the shared experiences that drew them together. When the Death Eaters started targeting the muggle born witches, Seamus' parents began having regular arguments. Although Seamus wasn't there for all of them, he knew most centered around the fact that his mother had kept her magical abilities a secret until after they were married. Choosing the safety of the muggle world over the dangers of the magical world, his father eventually walked out and hadn't returned. His parting gift had been to inform Dean's parents of the future atrocities that their son would face. The Thomas', fearful for their child, gathered him up and left the country. Seamus apparently wished Hermione had been the one to go and she heartily agreed with him. She almost laughed at how two people wishing for the same results could evoke such different emotions.   
  
So caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't see Neville until he was standing by her side. The once chubby, apprehensive child had grown into a strapping, self-assured man. Cognizant of his own personal history he displayed none of the pompousness usually found in someone so blessed. With a quick hug and a peck on the cheek he whispered quietly in her ear "don't worry about him luv, we're all glad to see you out and about." He gave a playful tug to one of her curls and then with a knowing smile he turned to the group and yelled out with mock severity "I can see by the gleam in your eyes that you are all up to no good, so I'm leaving now. I have enough detentions lined up to last me till the end of the year!" With a chuckle from all he swept out of the room closing the door firmly behind him.  
  
Finally alone, and with a bit of the tension broken by Neville and his self-deprecating humor, Harry and Ron took turns welcoming her back to their lair. The boys looked as if they were ready to settle in for an evening of merriment when they noticed the stilted looks being passed between their company. After their few inquiries were met with hesitation as each girl indicated the other should start, the boys became clearly agitated.   
  
Eventually Ginny broke rank and told them the whole sordid tale. Harry alternated between urging his girlfriend to continue and darting looks to his friend as she relaxed into his roommate's comforting embrace. While Harry interrupted occasionally to ask a question or clarify an unusual point, Ron hadn't spoken a word. Thinking that actions do speak louder than words he noticed that Ron had moved to hold her against him in what looked like an effort to combine their strength.  
  
Almost as an unspoken request they didn't speak ill of the parties involved, or invent shortsighted plans as they would have in their youth. Simply stating the facts and offering Hermione the support that she obviously needed was more than enough. Hours later their discussion, which had been interdispersed with silence, became silence interrupted by the growling in their stomachs. Ron finally spoke to quietly suggest that Harry and Ginny go to the kitchen to get them all a late snack. An understanding look was passed between the two roommates before Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and dragged his girlfriend out of the room.  
  
As the other couple left she noted that she didn't feel uncomfortable being alone with Ron in the room. Lying with him on his bed, entwined in the companionable sprawl that only years of close friendship can produce, Hermione gave herself over to the emotions that had plagued her throughout the day. As quiet sobs racked her body he sought to ease her tired nerves by running his fingers through her hair and whispering calming words over her head. Neither attempted to move as he cradled her in his arms and soothed her like a wounded child.  
  
As her tears subsided she noticed that he had begun to elongate his stroke, allowing his fingertips to lightly brush her back and tickle the curve of her spine. She felt his warm breath as he began to nuzzle the hair at her temple and kiss her soft mass of curls. Hermione felt a warmth spread throughout her body at the intimate contact and noticed with bashful delight that his heavy breathing matched her own. Timidly she raised her face to meet his and saw him regard her through heavy eyes before dipping his head and kissing away the tears at the corner of her eyes. Following the path they had established his lips edged to the corner of her mouth and she moaned as his tongue darted out to taste the salty tears he found there. Raising his head to look into her eyes, he sought answers to an unspoken question before dropping back to gently taste her waiting lips.  
  
The kiss was so sweet that it made her wonder why they hadn't been doing this all along. Then, remembering their years of friendship, she realized that she couldn't just use him to erase her pain. His friendship meant more to her than a few stolen kisses that she would later regret. Sensing her change of mood he broke off the tender kiss and, exhaling slowly, rested his forehead on her own.  
  
With a husky voice she said slowly, "we can't -- I can't hurt you like this."  
  
He hesitated for a moment, about to say something, and then with a quick nod of his head he rolled over and pulled her with him to sit on the edge of the bed. Looking like he was going to change the subject in an effort to save their friendship, he quickly jumped from the bed and headed toward his school trunk. While it appeared that he had moved on as if the matter had been of no consequence, the abrupt loss left her feeling dejected and unsure of whether she had made the right decision.  
  
"I have something for you. I got it over the summer, actually I've been looking for it for longer than that, but finally got it this summer. Anyway, I've been waiting for the perfect time to give it to you. I didn't think it would be so soon, but -- " Ron said the words matter-of-factly, but with plenty of his usual playfulness.   
  
"Oh no, not more Weasley pranks" Hermione said with a forced laugh. She loved a good joke as much as anyone else -- ok, so not nearly as much as anyone else -- but she really wasn't in the mood for something that would make her turn purple or sprout wings.  
  
"No Mione. Don't worry, this isn't a prank." She wasn't sure, but she thought she detected a hurt tone in his voice. She groaned inwardly at the thought of having to stroke his ego over some silly gift. It's not that she didn't appreciate him thinking about her, she was just surprised that he had. Sure Ron was a great friend, but he was a rather 'out of sight, out of mind' kind of guy.   
  
While she had spent her summer under Dumbledore's supposed care, he had spent it working for his brothers at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Harry had written to her a few times and told her that they started him in the warehouse to 'learn from the ground up.' Ron quickly learned that was a business phrase for 'we aren't going to pay you much money, but we are going to work you to death with the most menial tasks we can find.' She knew that he showed a strong work ethic when he put his mind to it, but even she thought the job would break him. Ron surprised all by not only sticking to the exhausting labor, but also taking the initiative outside of work to promote the business. By the end of the summer the twins were regularly eating a lunchtime meal of Crow a la Ron.  
  
Hermione noticed that Ron was spending an awfully long time fumbling around in his school trunk and was almost tempted to tell him it could wait for another time when he suddenly popped up and looked at her staring at him. With a quick blush he averted his eyes and sat down next to her on the bed. He stared out the window for a few moments obviously deep in thought and with a deep sigh he said, "I don't want you to say anything yet. Just think about it ok?"  
  
She stayed silent and wondered what was going on. She loved gifts that she had to think about. Actually she loved anything that she had to think about. Using her mind to solve a problem was what got her through the day -- these days especially.  
  
Awkwardly he got down on one knee and took her hand. She then noticed that in his outstretched fingers he held a beautiful diamond ring. With a princess cut and gold band. it was the classic standard of every young girls fantasy. She gasped and quickly looked up to meet his hesitant but loving gaze.  
  
"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"  
  
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A/N: Big Thank You to my new beta NegativeNine!! Better than I had ever hoped for!!  
  
For all of you that were surprised that this little twist, you should be thanking (or blaming) the following folks who inspired it: Deb ^..^ (it's not even the twist I was planning, but when the muse strikes); Karena Elizabeth for reminding me that some snogging was in order (but spaz141 was right that it can't be Sev just yet); and spaz141 for unknowingly making me feel guilty for putting Ron's feelings out there in the first chapter and then ditching him without more explanation.  
  
shiv5468 - thanks for the helpful comments. It's funny that you should mention about the vigorous sex life -- there is actually more planned for that topic, but by the time I got to writing the rest it was sounding so heavy handed that I pulled it out for later use. Hopefully that will be tightened up later when the topic comes up again.  
  
FYI - "In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." quote from Martin Luther King, jr. 


	6. Chapter06

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
The sun beat down on Hermione's face as she relaxed on the deck of the oversized sailboat. A light breeze crossed her face, and she could smell the saltwater in the air. Her body gently rocked in time with the ocean tide as it lapped at the side of the vessel, and her mind was lulled into a peaceful serenity. A seagull squawked in the distance, and she watched as it dove in search of a hearty meal. Her father loved seagulls. He said they reminded him that, no matter how far away they went, home was close by. Her mother would chuckle and say that was because he refused to take the family too far from shore, but he would always shrug that comment off. She turned her head to the side to catch her father's eye, and was rewarded with the adoring smile that he saved for his only child. Normally she would have taken the opportunity to talk his ear off about something or ask him a million questions, but right now she was content to just relax and enjoy.   
  
She knew it was just a dream, a sleep induced memory of a time when her parents were still alive. She had them often. When they first started to appear she would wake in a panic and sob uncontrollably at her loss, but now she just used them as her own private home movies. Every detail captured exactly as she wanted to remember them and not with the stark reality of a muggle video camera. She edited out the arguments and awkwardness and doubled up on the smiles and laughter. In them, she felt comfortable and secure.  
  
As her dream dissolved away she realized with some confusion that she wasn't safely ensconced in her own bed, but wrapped in strong arms with her head resting on the steady rise and fall of a well toned chest.  
  
She briefly wondered where she was and then gasped as the events of the previous day came crashing back at her. Three proposals. Well, to be correct, three potential husbands -- presented to her in a few short hours of each other. That would be pretty heady stuff for anyone, much less a bookish recluse such as herself. But her final, and most endearing, proposal was currently lying beside her with his arms clutching her in a comforting embrace.  
  
She looked up at her best friend and studied him in the early morning light. With his sleep tousled red hair and dream induced grin she noticed how absolutely adorable he was while he slept. It was something she had never seen before, and wondered what it would be like to wake up with him every morning. She thought of how easy it would be to accept his proposal instead of the other, less desirable, petitions. According to the law she had six months to get married. In just a few months he would turn eighteen and then they would be free to marry.  
  
True to his original request he wouldn't let her respond to his proposal. He knew that it was a surprise and that she needed time to think the situation through. She wasn't sure which amazed her more -- the proposal, or the fact that he was astute enough to leave her to her thoughts. Not that he really left her alone. He stayed by her side and attempted to quell her unspoken fears. He told her he loved her. Not by simple words, but in the way that he looked at her and held her while they fell asleep. And yes, to her amazement he also said those special words.  
  
She had wondered why, after all this time of being 'just friends', he decided to take this sudden step.   
  
"Is it just because of the law?" She had asked.  
  
"No." Was his quick reply. He hesitated as if contemplating how much of his thoughts he should reveal to her. "I know that over the years I've been a prat." He paused there to glare at her as she giggled mercilessly. When she calmed down enough to listen he continued, "I thought I had the whole year to make up for that. I thought that with enough time I could make you see that we could be something special."  
  
"Go on," she said, knowing there had to be more to the story.  
  
"Last year I started seeing you in a new light" he said softly. "I was dating other girls, and noticing that none of them could hold a candle to you. I began to think about us as -- as more than just friends."  
  
She looked at him, confusion written on her face. "So why didn't you say something then?"  
  
He bent his head and paused before speaking. "At first I couldn't work up the nerve, and then your parents were killed. I thought what you would need most was a friend, not another complication. I thought I would give it time."  
  
"But now?"   
  
"I can't let you go to that meeting tomorrow not knowing how I feel. You have to know that you have choices." He said the words with such force that she finally noticed the change in him. He was no longer the child she knew from her first year at Hogwarts. He had grown up.  
  
He went on to confide in her about his summer job. It wasn't done just to make a quick galleon or prove something to his brothers. It had been to prove something to himself and to her. As his first step into their future, he wanted to show that he could support her. He could and would care for her, and their future brood. With a sense of foresight that stunned her, he had planned their future out in great detail. The biggest problem she could see was that it didn't follow her own planned future. While he hadn't imagined a life outside the wizarding world, she didn't want to imagine a world inside of it.   
  
Professor Snape was offering her protection for a short period of time. Her planned future would be delayed, but not derailed. He was offering her a temporary solution; Ron was offering her permanence. A true marriage, she knew, meant sacrifices -- but was she willing to make them? No plan was completely set, but could she give up her solitary dream to fit into his? Could they come to a mutual agreement based on shared desires? How far was he willing to go to make this work? Was this really the right move for them?  
  
The question was, 'Did she love him?'   
  
Sure she loved him -- she always had. She loved him just as she loved Harry, the rest of the Weasleys, and all the folks in the order that made up her new extended family. It was a comfortable love and one that, after her brief crush in their fourth year, she had never given a second thought.   
  
No, the real question was, 'Could she love him in that -- till death do you part -- kind of way.'   
  
After the events of the last evening, Hermione could have settled in to hours of self-examination over this question. However, try as she might the phrase, "Till death do you part," echoed in her thoughts. In light of her situation that simple marriage vow took on a whole new meaning, and it was that chilling phrase that finally made up her mind. She wasn't sure if she loved him enough to marry him, but she was sure that she loved him too much to see him die for her.  
  
Glancing at her watch she noted that she still had time for a quick shower and breakfast before having to leave for her meeting with the Ministry. For a moment she admired the engagement ring as it hung on the chain around her neck. Placed in its temporary location only hours ago, she tried to think of how she would return it without ruining their friendship. She knew that she was a coward for just leaving him, but convinced herself that their conversation would have to wait until there was more time.   
  
Pushing on to more pressing thoughts, she wondered how she was going to get out of the room undetected. Listening carefully, she didn't notice any sounds from his roommates. She wasn't sure if Harry had kept them away from the room, or if they were just well hidden behind the heavy curtains that cloaked all of the school's four-poster beds. Pulling away from Ron, while trying to not disturb his slumber, she carefully climbed towards a shaft of light between the folds of fabric. With some trepidation she opened the curtains surrounding his bed and made her getaway.  
  
Quietly she opened the bedroom door and with one backwards glance stepped into the darkened hallway, and straight into the broad chest of her other fiancé.  
  
As she looked up at him she saw his gaze move into the bedroom and straight towards Ron's sleeping form, only half hidden behind the carelessly drawn curtains. She quickly closed the door behind her, but knew she hadn't been quick enough.  
  
His sneer was apparent even in the darkened hallway. "Let me guess. You had a falling out with the unicorns?"  
  
She didn't even try to stop the blush that crept up her face as she processed his accusation. Her mouth gaped open and shut a few times as she tried to explain the situation, but no words actually came to her rescue. Finally, he turned on his heel and headed away.  
  
Knowing she had to rectify the situation, she ran after him and shouted, "Wait!"  
  
By the time she caught up to him he was standing in the middle of the deserted Gryffindor common room. "Professor wait," she called out to him. He turned to her with a somewhat bored expression and seemed to look past her rather than at her. "It's not what it looked like," she said. That seemed to get his full attention.  
  
"It looked like you spent last night sharing Mr. Weasley's bed," he said rather succinctly.  
  
She could tell by his tone that, while they both knew he was correct, he was in no mood to hear any elaboration on the subject. Taking her silence as confirmation he again turned around and headed for the portrait hole. As he moved through the opening he called back to her "They moved the time of our meeting at the ministry. The headmaster is expecting us."  
  
Not knowing how much time was left before she had to be in the headmasters' office she thought a quick cleansing charm would do that trick. She grabbed for her wand and- "Damn!" She yelled into the empty common room as she realized that not only did she still not have her old wand back, but the man holding it captive had just walked out the door. In a deliberate act of defiance she turned and went to her room to freshen up the muggle way.  
  
A few minutes later she was again running through the common room. With a new set of robes, face washed, and teeth brushed she was a bit more prepared for the upcoming events. She would have loved to perform a detangling charm on her hair, but she could only do that with a wand or an extended fight with a hairbrush. Despite her anger she didn't want to waste too much time, but there was no way she was risking them finding out about her new wand now. For that same reason she decided to leave it in her treasure box rather than bringing it to the Ministry meeting. She was well aware that any wand brought into the Ministry had to be registered, and she wasn't about to let them do that.  
  
She burst out of the portrait hole heading for the Dumbledore's office and was shocked to see Professor Snape standing just outside the opening. His eyes quickly swept over her, taking in her slightly less disheveled appearance. As he continued to regard her with carefully controlled energy, she couldn't tell whether he had been waiting for her all along or sent back to hurry her along. She hoped it was the former.   
  
Having only just made the decision to accept his offer over Ron's she looked at the man who would be her husband. Oh gods, her husband -- just thinking that word sent shivers up her spine, but not in the way that most brides would have experienced.   
  
She thought of how being married to Ron would revolve around the day-to-day activities of a large caring family. Weekdays spent getting the kids to school and themselves to work, then weekends at the burrows for extended family Quidditch competitions. The man before her however, that was another story.   
  
She knew that their union was to be a farce, but she couldn't help but think of what a real marriage to this man would be like -- for the right woman. Her imagination immediately conjured up foreign visions of a relaxed potions master and his wife. With his keen intellect, and brooding intensity she saw a life filled with stimulating conversation, desires for academic excellence, and raw sexual tension. It was this last thought which sent a new batch of shivers up her spine, and not in the way she would have expected. Seeing her shiver he looked down on her, disdain written clearly over his face.   
  
'So much for raw sexual tension,' she reflected. Thinking that this was as bad a time as any, she asked coolly, "May I have my wand back?"  
  
"You won't be needing it today," was his clipped response as he started walking towards the headmaster's office. She took a deep calming breath and followed him, but not before adding another regret to her recent decision.  
  
Once at the headmaster's office she noticed Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall deep in hushed conversation. As quick as their presence became known, the two sprung guiltily apart. Noticing the interested look that Hermione gave them, Professor McGonagall searched for an opportunity to distract the young girl and stall her usual flood of questions. Seizing upon her unkempt hair the head of Gryffindor commented around a slight chuckle "My dear, I believe you forgot something this morning." Hermione looked at her with apparent confusion and the older woman, motioning toward her hair, continued, "We'll want to put our best foot forward in the meeting this morning."  
  
In response to this Hermione made a pointed reference to the fact that she was no longer in possession of her wand. While the two older wizards cleared their throats and looked away in embarrassment, Snape managed to appear unconcerned. Professor McGonagall muttered an incoherent half-acknowledgement, then with a flick of her wrist and a few words spoken from the side of her mouth she succeeded in subduing the young girl's hair.  
  
Noting the time, Professor Dumbledore quickly went on to give an overly brief review of what was to be expected in their meeting. Not giving the young girl time to address her desired allotment of queries, Hermione and the three professors grabbed their ministry bound portkey and vanished.  
  
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A/N: Thanks again to NegativeNine for her ever so helpful beta work!!  
  
Sphira: Good thoughts -- Thanks! I purposely kept Ron vague to keep the proposal a surprise (yeah, the old line -- I meant to do that). While I agree that most guys would use that as an opportunity to hold off on a proposal, I think this situation was different. In my mind Ron had been planning this for awhile, and while this wasn't how he saw it happening, he felt it was now or never. I saw him as wrestling with his own timeline before deciding to propose. I hope this chapter gave more insight into that.  
  
BTW - I do appreciate all the insightful comments and questions that you folks have been leaving. I do read the feedback and adjust accordingly. I know it's bad fan fic etiquette to change a posted chapter, so I've been trying to work in any answers to questions or requests later.  
  
To all who have been enjoying Ron, let me just say that I hope you understand why she can't choose him, but that we haven't seen the last of him!! This is listed as Romance/Angst after all ;-) 


	7. Chapter07

A/N Ok, there was some type of conspiracy going on at fanfic with my Chapter 7. The server was having problems when I originally uploaded it, and something must have gotten corrupted. Try as I might I can't get it to recognize anything in that chapter number (was working on it all day.) If you noticed strange things I apologize, and hopefully this will be sorted out soon! I have an email in to the support folks, but until then look to the chapter titles for assisting in finding something other than blank pages ;-)

Again my apologies, and thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 7

The group of four arrived at the Ministry, and worked their way through a labyrinth of corridors towards courtroom five and their meeting with the Marriage Registry Bureau's Review Board. When Hermione heard they were headed to a Ministry courtroom she expected to be hauled off to the dungeons and forced to face an imposing board in an oppressive chamber. She was happy to learn from Professor McGonagall that the lower ranking courtrooms were more like informal conference rooms. She was relieved that she would at least be spared the nervousness of a dungeon inspired production. 

Despite that small concession, the trip wasn't without its moments. She angrily remembered the incident at the security post as the others stood to have their wands weighed. At one point the guard demanded her wand and she froze. He was at first angry at the delay, then surprised when Severus announced she had no wand. However, after asking their destination his expression quickly turned into a smirk that Hermione was itching to slap. The guard made it clear that he suspected her wand had been taken away in preparation for her life of servitude to a pureblood wizard. As she knew that this was not the time or place, she just pasted on a smile and wordlessly repeated to herself that she would never let that happen. 

Minutes later they hurried past a morning coffee cart and Hermione's stomach growled. Unmistakably aware that she had missed breakfast, she began to imagine the large morning meal that she would have been enjoying in the great hall when it finally hit her -- 24 hours. It had only been 24 hours ago that she had been sitting with Harry and Ron, looking at the brides in the Daily Prophet. She couldn't believe all that had happened in those short hours: Draco leering at her, secretly knowing her matrimonial fate; Snape petitioning for her hand; and Ron proposing out of the blue. It was like a day in muggle soap-opera hell, with everything happening at once. She quickly reminded herself that actually only one thing had happened, the rest were just horrible chain reactions to that event. 

She was now 18. Well, 18 and a day she thought petulantly. Yesterday should have been a day filled with happiness, celebrations, and promises for a bright future. She spared a moment -- in what had become a regular occurrence since her third year -- to rue the day she had ever heard of that blasted time turner. Her remorseful thoughts quickly turned to anger as she thought of the Ministry and their inane Marriage Law. Even without her use of the timeturner, they were the reason she was in this mess.

When they finally rounded the bend towards the designated courtroom, Hermione saw Lucius Malfoy talking with a rather spindly looking wizard. She was hesitant to ruin the companionable silence that the group had formed, but her inquisitive nature got the better of her and asked, "Is that Malfoy's lawyer?"

"No dear," came Professor McGonagall's curt reply. "He is a member of the review board." Her lips pursed to a slight scowl as she explained that he would soon be ruling on their case.

Although a slight panic shot through her, Hermione was determined to remain strong. "What's he doing with Malfoy then? Isn't that against some rule?" If all she had heard of the elder Malfoy was to be believed, it wasn't like him to leave anything to chance. She surmised that he had paid a rather large sum to the man in exchange for a favorable vote. 

"Why, Miss Granger," the Potions Master began, "upset that someone else is not following the rules? Perhaps you should go over and give them a good scolding. I'm sure they will feel suitably chastised and then we can all just go home. I personally know how well that works on you."

Hermione glared at the older man and was about to give a scathing retort when Professor Dumbledore quickly intervened. "Now, now children -- stop bickering. Severus, I think it would be wise if you keep your temper in check in front of Lucius. We don't want to set him off more than necessary."

"Thank you Headmaster, but I am quite aware of how to handle myself in front of Lucius," was his acidic reply. "Perhaps though, we should think about placing a Silencio spell on Miss Granger. I've rarely seen her at a loss for words."

"Severus..." the older wizard said with a deep sigh. He wanted to dispute the claim, but in all honesty there was some truth to his words. "Hermione," he began instead, "both of you please keep your tempers in check." 

After enduring a volley of childish glances thrown between the pair, the group continued their journey towards the courtroom. Hermione was visibly seething under the intense scrutiny of the stoic Potions Master. All she wanted to do was get past Malfoy and his accomplice and into the courtroom. The sooner this meeting was over the better.

The actions of the two wizards, as they turned and saw the advancing group, confirmed Hermione's fears. It was clear by the look on the board member's face that he was caught in a compromising position. Normally she didn't think this would bother him, but with Albus Dumbledore looking on this was not a normal situation. With a succession of quick head bounces to nowhere in particular, he turned and headed into the courtroom. She thought of how silly he looked trying to pretend that their improper meeting had not been witnessed. Malfoy should have paid off someone with more finesse.

For his own part Malfoy looked unabashed and eyed the headmaster with feigned disinterest. Hermione wondered how, after only a short time, he could go from a prisoner at Azkaban to a respected member of the wizarding community. It wasn't just anybody who felt comfortable enough to risk the wrath of the Wizengamot's Chief Warlock. She quickly chided herself as she remembered that lining the pockets of Cornelius Fudge, always a profitable venture, accomplished much more these days.

With the hasty departure of the Ministry official an uncomfortable silence enveloped the small group. Malfoy eyed the young girl, briefly skimming her body without any flickering of interest. Draco hadn't been particularly thrilled when he found out his father had chosen her, but Lucius was determined to present her as an early Christmas gift to his son anyway. Besides, stealing her out from under Dumbledore's nose was the real prize in his opinion. 

Aware of the headmaster's gaze on him, he carefully broke the tension with a well-timed olive branch. "Hermione darling, I do hope that we can resolve this sticky issue and welcome you to our family. We are all so looking forward to seeing your smiling face at our family gatherings." He said this as he held his hand out to her, his wrist slightly limp with only slightly disguised distaste.

As she had no plans to allow the despicable man to touch her she resolutely kept her hands to her sides and looked him straight in the eye as she responded. "Sod off Malfoy. I wouldn't become part of your family if my life depended on it." She didn't care what the Headmaster said. She wasn't sure how this day would unfold, but if she was going down with the ship she was going to enjoy the ride. There were a few things that she wanted to say to this man, and as far as she could tell this was her golden opportunity.

She wasn't totally unaware of the sharp intake of breath to her right and knew that Snape didn't particularly enjoy her outburst, but his sharp grasp of her upper arm was enough to convey his warning that she should stop before her full tirade began. Defiant, she decided to ignore the fingers tightening around her arm and she opened her mouth to continue. 

Just then the door to the courtroom opened and a short Ministry witch stepped out and called their names. The administrator looked about uncomfortably when she noticed that she had failed to garner any attention. The group before her appeared to be focused in a battle of wills, and it became apparent that she was interrupting something rather important. Wondering if security would have to be called, she repeated the docket number and case participants and stood back to wait them out. 

After the briefest of hesitations Dumbledore gestured towards the door and said, "after you Lucius."

At this breech of familiarity Lucius Malfoy looked away from Hermione and, with a swish of his expensive robes, followed the Ministry administrator into the courtroom. With the briefest of looks between themselves, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore followed him inside.

Snape continued the crushing hold on her arm and stood his ground for a moment to assure that they were a few paces behind the others. Bending slightly he brought his lips close to her ear, and she could tell that he was fighting to control his temper before speaking. The result of his internal battle was incendiary on her overwrought nerves. Her eyes, at first wide with shock, soon fluttered closed as his warm breath tickled her ear and sent delightful shivers down her spine. With each unsteady rustle that forced itself from his lips she found herself gasping to match his rhythm. She almost cried out as she sensed his tongue dart out to refresh his dry lips.

"I think--" He brokenly whispered the words, his smooth voice harsh under the force of his wrath. An almost inaudible moan escaped her as she waited for him to continue his verbal assault, but instead he moved his lips closer to her heated flesh. The subtle change danced across her skin like bursts of fire, melting away the last of her angry facade. He allowed his fiery onslaught to work her anew, his breath becoming more expectant with each passing moment. As his coerced exhalations reached an intoxicating level she willed herself to resist the temptation to lean back and pull from his strength. After a moment of blissful torture he growled at her, "You would do well to remember that your life might very well depend on the outcome of this meeting." 

He didn't allow time for his chilling words to fully sink in before he snapped his head up and propelled her forward into the room.

Unbeknownst to Hermione, her entrance into the courtroom looked very much like every other Imperio bride -- a slightly flushed and disoriented look on her face, and accompanied by the forceful guidance of her fiancé. Snape knew that, had she been aware of the implications of her appearance, she would have been horrified. There was no doubt in his mind that she would have immediately set out to correct the misconception. He was eternally grateful that, to the casual observer, he appeared in control. 

While officially the occupants of the room believed him to be nothing more than a teacher with a chequered past, there were a select few in attendance that were followers of the dark. For them he had a reputation as a feared Death Eater to uphold, and for this ruse to be successful he had to appear the part. It would certainly not do to be seen as the hen-pecked fiancé trying to reign in the temper of his betrothed, or worse yet, as Dumbledore's lackey. Realizing just how successful his little chat had been on her, he mentally stored away the location of her delightfully sensitive spot. If the old wizard had his way she would be around for a while, and it was never too soon to start preparing his arsenal. 

As they reached their table, Snape pushed Hermione into an empty chair before settling in beside her. He was well aware that, aside from showing up, his services would not be needed at this meeting. This was Dumbledore's production and he was ready to enjoy the show.

As they arrived late, the court administrator had finished handing out the necessary paperwork to the assembled board members and officially called out the case in question. "Docket number 4286 -- Lucius Malfoy versus Albus Dumbledore in regards to the legality of the marriage petition for Severus Snape to Hermione Granger. All parties in question are present..."

Dragging herself out of her stupor, Hermione listened as the administrator droned on with the official legalities. She knew there was something strange about the way the petition was presented, but her mind was still a bit flustered and unable to initially grasp the flaw. Although she was embarrassed by her reaction to the man beside her, she was also reluctant to leave her current state of arousal without further exploration. After a moment her brain appeared to kick in, and she looked up, confusion written on her face. She wondered why Malfoy had brought the case against Dumbledore and not Snape. She warily came to the conclusion that as her guardian, the headmaster must have been the one to accept the petition -- she knew she hadn't accepted anything. 

Normally she would have continued to listen intently to the presentation of something so important to her life. In the past she might have even taken notes. But try as she might, she still couldn't make sense of the fact that this was really happening to her. Her mind just disregarded the event as something that she would have to endure for a short time, but not for a lifetime. With her attention wavering her thoughts strayed to her Professor and his actions outside the courtroom. Her breath hitched slightly, and she quickly willed her thoughts elsewhere.

In an effort to find something to keep her alert she glanced around and took in the details of the rather unofficial looking room. She quickly assessed that the dimly lit chamber held little interest to anyone. The gallery behind her was sparsely populated with disinterested witches and a dozing court reporter. 'I guess Death Eater brides are pretty common place these days,' she thought. 'This doesn't even warrant a conscious reporter.' Her eyes slid around further, and she came across the intended focal point of courtroom number five -- a long ornate table that adorned the head of the room. Once a thing of intricate beauty, it now served as nothing more than a makeshift leaning post for a group of bored Ministry officials. Well, all but one of them was bored. 

She noticed the spindly man from the corridor as he tried to exude an air of bureaucratic interest while his eyes darted between Lucius Malfoy and Albus Dumbledore. She was right the first time -- the man had no finesse. As she thought about him she decided to play a little game -- 'let's find the corrupt officials.' Malfoy certainly had to have more than one on his payroll. She carefully examined each member of the high table and noticed that, although most gave off the appropriate air of legal boredom, a few of them were acting a bit peculiar. A rather autocratic witch, her decision clearly already made, was not paying the slightest bit of attention to the proceedings. Yes, a payoff had taken place there. An older wizard wrinkled his nose at her as though her 'mudblood' stench offended his senses. A payoff not even required for him. Another witch was staring rather intently, and angrily, at Malfoy -- it was obvious that a more physical payoff had been exchanged there. 

Hermione wondered what had made the witch so angry, and let her gaze wander towards the man in question. Before her eyes had time to adjust, she saw him staring at her. As he caught her attention he slowly devoured her with his eyes before tilting his head and blowing her an obscene kiss. She immediately looked away -- shocked and disgusted by what she had seen. Unfortunately, though her eyes were focused on the fingers entwined in her lap, she still caught his low chuckle of enjoyment at her obvious discomfort. She remembered that Draco had boasted about his father plans to use her as his teaching tool, and was freshly sickened by the thought. Snape's parting words echoed in her ears and from that point on she became very interested in the outcome of the case. It would be one thing to fend off Draco's advances within the safety of Hogwarts, quite another to attend family gatherings at the Malfoy estate.

It was at this point that the administrator had finished her legal ramblings and had called for Lucius Malfoy to step forward to present his reason for contesting the petition. As he gracefully stood and arranged his robes, Hermione thought that it was probably a good thing that she didn't have a wand because she would have been tempted hex the bastard. Sure it would have made her feel great, but with so many Ministry officials around she doubted that she would have gotten away with it.

When Malfoy was finally done preening he turned, and with an intimidating smile to the board members he began. "I know all of you are just as concerned as I am with avoiding the impending catastrophe that is threatening our way of life." He paused then to hang his head in concern and stroke his chin with his long tapered fingers. It was all Hermione could do to refrain from lashing out at his double entendre. It was clear that the lifestyle he was protecting had nothing to do with healthy children, but furthering his racist views.

"With the future of the wizarding world at stake, I was extremely proud to be able to submit a petition on behalf of my son to Miss Granger," he said with mock sincerity. "Both are fine examples of our wizarding youth, and our world would surely benefit from their union." After looking for, and receiving, a number of adoring smiles he continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "I am also fortunate that my family's estate is rather large as I am assured that between the two of them I will be paying university bills for many years to come." Polite chuckles may have filled the courtroom, but Hermione was positive that she heard the derisive snort coming from her potions professor. It was clear that he believed Malfoy as much as she did. Under different circumstances she would have reveled in knowing that her future education was secure, but she was positive that such an idea would never really be tolerated. That is, if she even lived that long.

Like a maestro he listened for the delicate murmur of the crowd to diminish and then picked up his verbal baton to start his next movement. As he expertly played the board members, Hermione became more worried about the outcome of the hearing. "I can see no reason why the Ministry would want to keep these two apart..."

"Mister Malfoy," interrupted a younger witch who had been cleared by Hermione's earlier scrutiny. "While I appreciate your desire to find a wife for your son, would you please limit your remarks to the petition in question?" Another snort from the potions master could be heard, but this time with a definite hint of mirth. Ignoring the subtle outburst, and the glaring look from the refined wizard, she continued, "Do you have any reason as to why this claim is contestable?"

While he didn't appear to appreciate the interruption, he was fully prepared to answer her question. After the briefest of interludes, Lucius Malfoy -- recently paroled prisoner of Azkaban and trusted advisor of Lord Voldemort himself -- wrapped himself in a legal blanket that would have suffocated lesser ex-convicts. "I'm glad you asked that my dear," he began with a smirk. "The law quite clearly states that a pureblood wizard -- or -- the head of their household are the only ones able to submit a petition. As Albus Dumbledore is in no way related to Severus Snape, he was not able to legally submit the document on the other man's behalf. As I see it the petition is fraudulent and should be dismissed immediately."

She heard the sharp intake of breath, but after looking expectantly at the man by her side she realized it had been her own. Actually as her head darted to the other members of her table she was aware that she was the only one surprised by the news. Her insides filled with fear, she turned to Professor McGonagall and whispered, "I thought Snape put in the petition." She noted the Professor's quick shake of her head and felt the need to ask, "Are we going to lose this?" The Professor merely patted her hand reassuringly before turning back to view the proceedings.

----------------

A/N: Thanks again to NegativeNine for her beta work and constant prodding. If she hadn't been such a nudge I don't know when this would have been updated! BTW - For all of you thinking that this is an evil cliffy blame her. I didn't want to, but she convinced me to end the chapter here... (Just kidding - she really thinks I'm evil for ending it here. Don't worry she's making sure that I work diligently on chapter 8 as you read. She's a great beta!)

Thanks to all that have read and reviewed! You make my day! Also thanks to Silvia S., Jenn told me that you love the story but won't give me the courtesy of reviewing ;-)

Sukkumbus: Actually I chose 18 as the age of consent because most people seemed to complain that younger than 18 was unacceptable (hence the blatant use of time turners) so I figured I would stick to that. I also decided that if Hermione had to be 18 then Ron should be also (actually I mentioned the age requirement in chapter 3 in Draco's library discussion.) If necessary then lets just say that it's the wizarding world's age of consent. FYI - Out of curiosity I did a quick Internet search for teen marriage license laws, and it's pretty similar across the US and throughout the UK. 18 is the usual age (some were 19 or 20), but with parental consent or a court document they can usually marry as young as 16 (I think Scotland may be 16 regardless of consent, but had trouble confirming that.) 


	8. Chapter08

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 8

Hermione was stunned. Despite all of his power, it looked as though Albus Dumbledore would be bested by the likes of Lucius Malfoy. That a Death Eater would call a petition into question for such a petty reason was despicable. It was yet another reminder that while Voldemort's inner circle seldom followed the law, they often twisted it to suit their needs. 

As Malfoy's current endeavor was to acquire her for his son, Hermione had a vest interest in making sure that he didn't succeed. She had no intention of being his latest purchase; bought by way of an elaborate web of connections and shady payoffs. As she watched him gloat, she was afraid that all of her careful planning had been a waste and that she should have run away when she had the chance.

She expelled that thought quickly. There was a reason she didn't act hastily before; she was through with the act-first-think-later plans that defined the Golden Trio. Only careful planning was going to get her out of this. That she was overtired and hadn't thought out the implications of this meeting was now obvious to her. How could she have allowed herself to come here without a wand? 

As she berated herself, she began to envision how she could have gotten away with it. Snape and the others assumed that she didn't have a wand -- so that would have been her perfect cover -- in fact it had been Snape that informed the guard. If only she had thought of that sooner. She would like to have continued spending her time imagining how things could have gone, but there was no use in dwelling in the past any longer. 

She decided she wasn't going to interfere with the proceedings until she was sure of an unfavorable outcome. At this juncture it wouldn't be prudent to risk upsetting the Headmaster's plan, but she wasn't about to rely solely on him for her safety. He had tested her and her friends far too often for her to assume that he wasn't above leaving her to fend for herself -- under the guise of testing her. She needed to think of how to handle this -- and fast. 

Reviewing the situation and her options, she came to the conclusion that things might not be as bad as she thought. If they did lose the case that didn't mean the ministry would let Malfoy take her away right then and there. If they stuck true to the law she had six months to marry, so there was no reason she should not return to school. Luckily for her, they were still keeping up the facade that the Death Eater marriages were real. With Dumbledore present, she had a high-ranking official to run interference in that regard.

On the other hand, if they allowed Malfoy to take her immediately, she would have to act quickly. She ruefully thought that a wand would be helpful, and wondered if she could _borrow_ one. She would never get Snape's wand; the git had probably cast a spell to glue it to his arm. Dumbledore was currently seated too far away, and he would also be unlikely to give up his wand. She couldn't help but wonder what it was with wizards and their wands? If it wasn't the one they were worried about, it was the other. 

Pushing that intrusive thought away, she wondered if McGonagall would be more willing to comply if asked nicely. Maybe -- but it would be better to steal it -- if she could. In any case she could still Apparate -- thank Merlin she didn't need a wand for that. Once again she mused that the £12.95 she spent on the How-To-Win-At-Poker-At-All-Costs book was the best investment she had ever made. Bracing herself for the worst possible scenario, Hermione mulled over plans and counter plans as the proceedings continued in the courtroom. 

Lucius Malfoy displayed his perfect teeth in a triumphant grin as he continued his admonishment of the Headmaster. He was determined to void the petition at all costs and was aware of his audacity to complain that the letter of the law hadn't been followed in this instance. "As the petition from Professor Dumbledore is not valid, I believe--"

"According to my records," this interruption came from the aloof and probably corrupt witch and she rustled through a stack of papers. Seizing upon her find, she continued, "Ah yes, according to my records this matter has already been decided."

"Pardon?" Came the mockingly innocent inquiry. Malfoy's smile brightened just a bit more as he said, "Perfect! Well, I'll be taking my future daughter-in-law home with me then." Turning to gather up his belongings, it was evident that he had not expected anyone to argue with him.

'Well then- on to Plan B,' Hermione thought as her hand began to creep for Professor McGonagall's wand pocket.

"No, I think you misunderstand me Mister Malfoy. The matter of Albus Dumbledore's right to petition on behalf of Severus Snape has already been decided," was her cold response.

Although he tried to keep his temper in check, Malfoy was used to getting his way, and this glitch was certainly not welcome. "How so?" he asked as his smile took on an artificial bearing.

Hermione noticed a slight gleam in the other witch's eyes as she relayed her story. "I must say, it was actually quite unusual. When we received the petition from Headmaster Dumbledore, he requested an immediate private review to address any issues that might hinder the process. During the meeting his authority to act on Professor Snape's behalf was made clear and accepted. However, as Miss Granger was not yet of age the file was sealed and set aside awaiting her 18th birthday." 

The gleam in her eyes had grown to a full smile at the wizard's growing displeasure. She turned to the young girl and said, "I believe that was yesterday?" Hermione could only nod at this now familiar question, embarrassed that her hand still hovered in the direction of her beloved professor's pocket. "Yes, well -- Happy Birthday Dear." The woman said the words kindly, knowing that under the circumstances this ruling would be a cherished birthday gift. 

The young woman numbly stared at her benefactor and said a quiet 'thank you' just as Professor McGonagall turned to her. She interpreted Hermione's outstretched hand as an appeal for support, and the older woman immediately pulled her into a crushing embrace. Hermione allowed the guilt of her near betrayal to slip away as the news finally suck in.

She was free -- well, not free -- but free of Malfoy and his family. Hermione couldn't suppress the joy that bubbled inside of her. And she thought the witch had been on the take -- well, looks could apparently be deceiving. She was so giddy that she almost missed the next exchange.

"When did this take meeting place?" Malfoy asked though gritted teeth.

After a quick confirmation at the paperwork in front of her, the witch replied, "Well, I do believe it was three weeks before the law went into effect."

Hermione didn't have to look to her side to know that her and Snape's mouths had just dropped open in shock.

"Close your mouths children, I'm running a school for wizards, not fish," the headmaster chuckled at his own wit.

Snape was furious; yet again the benevolent Albus Dumbledore had used him. While he thought he was protecting an innocent child from dark forces, it was now clear that this was merely another move in the Headmaster's twisted chess match. Sometimes he even wondered if the old man was still playing against Voldemort -- or if he was just playing with himself. After taking a moment to regain his composure, Snape cocked his head ever so slightly to the powerful wizard and seethed under his breath, "I thought you said that you came up with this idea just recently?" 

"No, I believe I said that _you_ came up with it just recently." The Headmaster paused and then added with some mirth, "_I_ came up with it quite some time ago."

Further discussion was halted as Malfoy yelled out, "This is preposterous!"

"We are all entitled to our opinions Mister Malfoy, however this matter has long since been settled. I don't even know why this claim was ever brought to the board in the first place." At this she gave a pointed look at the spindly man who had the sense to look ashamed. 

The general murmur of the courtroom became quite loud, so that even the insistent banging of a gavel went unnoticed. Apparently the cronies in the gallery had been looking for a show, and this one had proved enjoyable. Only after the presiding wizard warned that the courtroom might be cleared did the excited group finally calm down.

The rest of the proceedings continued in a blur. As the case was dismissed and the paperwork filed, Hermione couldn't help but think that perhaps Malfoy's considerable money and power were not as far reaching as he had imagined. Either that, or in this instance there was someone more powerful working against him. In no time at all her thoughts were back to the Headmaster, and she reminded herself that she should be glad that he was working on her behalf.

Turning to leave she caught Professor Snape staring at her and asked him, "how did this happen?"

Still livid about the recent betrayal he spared no thought to his words, "I wouldn't expect a Gryffindor to understand anything about planning. Obviously many hours were spent assuring your safety."

She was about to retort that she had always spent hours planning out her studies and was currently planning much more, but stopped herself in time. Though she needn't have bothered; as he had already turned to go -- clearly not interested in conversing with her.

As soon as Snape was outside of the courtroom, he berated himself for his callous comment. As much as he despised the situation, he had to admit that she was as much of a pawn as he was. In accordance with someone else's demands, they were to become husband and wife. He shuddered at the thought of taking such responsibility over another's life. Task him with the murder of an enemy, or risk torture to himself, and he would gladly comply -- that had been the agreement. But to be encumbered with the safety and well being of a wife; to be the one expected to ensure her happiness? That scenario had never even been discussed.

He had agreed to this farce as a last resort, and even then it had been under duress. To find out that this event would have taken place regardless of his consent was appalling, and for a moment he empathized with the young girl. To have such an important decision taken from you was demoralizing. He was frustrated by his lack of control over his own life, and couldn't help feeling that after all his years of serving two masters this betrayal went too far.

His anger built as he re-examined his predicament, and he didn't notice Lucius Malfoy until the other man was upon him. The Dark Lord's right hand man was furious as he grabbed his 'supposed' ally and pulled him into a nearby hallway. Snape went along without a fight; he had been expecting this little interlude.

"What was the meaning of that?" Malfoy hissed in his ear.

In preparation of this discussion, Snape had devised many different answers to that question. However, after what had just been revealed -- none of them seemed appropriate. Pushing aside the defeat he felt, he pulled from the anger that remained and answered, "I don't know -- but I intend to find out."

"Don't even think of playing tricks with me. If you and that Mudblood-loving crackpot think you are going to protect that girl you are sadly mistaken." The words were said with Lucius' usual venom -- one that Snape regularly ignored; but this time he couldn't hide his disgust.

"I assure you Lucius, I had no intention of stealing your son's new toy. I know how petulant he is when he doesn't get his way. Though it is a shame that you had to purchase a Mudblood to provide him with... sexual experiences." Because of Malfoy's highly regarded place in Voldemort's inner circle, Snape knew it was a mistake to confront him. But if the man had any intelligence it would have been clear that this was the Headmaster's plan alone. 

Angered by Snape's lack of respect, Malfoy decided to change tactics and grinned back at him in return. "I'll admit that having to marry you, instead of my son, would be much worse on her. Was that your plan all along?" His voice dropped and the smile left his face as he delivered the final insult. "Imagine her horror at being forced to bed the _greasy git_, I'm sure that even with all the water at Hogwarts, there still wouldn't be enough to wash her clean."

Hearing Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall as they exited the courtroom, Snape ignored the hateful comment and turned to rejoin his group. Pushing past the other man he heard Malfoy's parting words, "This is not over Snape -- I will get what's mine." 

Snape wondered what Malfoy would think if he knew that despite his impeccable hygiene, _he_ was the one that made the greasy git's skin crawl. 

------------------------------  
A/N: Thanks again to NegativeNine for her beta work!!

About not needing a wand to Apparate... According to the HP Lexicon there may be evidence to support that this can be done as wandless magic. I wasn't able to find anything that said it specifically couldn't be done without a wand, so I decided to allow it. If anyone finds otherwise please let me know. 

Thanks to everyone that has reviewed!! Any and all feedback on the story is appreciated!! I'll try not to leave you with any more nasty cliffhangers...

LaSilvia: Hope Jenn and I didn't embarass you too much!!  
Sukkumbus: You're so funny... anything that makes me think about the story is welcome!! And to you and Lady Adyra -- thanks for mentioning the heavy breathing scene -- I was trying for a bit of something there and was beginning to wonder if it missed the mark.  
Cherry Blood1: Yes Lucius is a nasty man. Don't get me wrong, I like the reformed Lucius' in other stories -- he just didn't suit my needs this time...  
Lyress: I hope this showed Hermione's backbone a bit better. It wasn't gone, just resting -- she's had a rough day ;-)


	9. Chapter09

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 9

As Dumbledore scanned the crowd outside the Ministry courtroom, he quickly located his missing Professor. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been hard to miss the glowering man advancing toward him, but the older wizard was much more interested in the equally irate glare that came from Lucius Malfoy -- just before he stormed away. Despite the outcome of the meeting, he surmised that Malfoy would continue to cause problems for his young charge; he just hoped that his trusted ally would be able to keep her safe. 

They had planned on returning to the school immediately, but with the attention of the post gallery crowd still upon them, the Headmaster changed tactics -- albeit rather awkwardly. "Severus, there you are. I thought perhaps we could take advantage of our time away from school to relax over a bit of lunch. I do believe we have a wedding to discuss." 

Hermione took a deep steadying breath when she overheard the Headmaster's suggestion. To sit down at lunch and calmly discuss invitations, multi-tiered cakes, and bridal attire -- she couldn't believe that the old man was suggesting such a thing. She was just extricated from the clutches of one evil madman, couldn't she just enjoy the moment before being thrust into the hands of another? 

Ignoring the crowd of mildly interested bystanders, it took Snape but a moment to assess that the plan was as objectionable to the two women as it was to himself. Professor McGonagall was glaring at the Headmaster and holding onto her favorite student with such ferocity that he wondered if her captive companion could breathe. A quick glance at the younger woman indicated a wariness that spoke volumes of her desire to stay away from wedding plans.

For his own part, Snape was certainly not interested in an awkward lunch to discuss something as insignificant as a few spoken words and some Ministry paperwork. What he really wanted was an explanation from the Headmaster, but he knew that would not be forthcoming. The old man had a plan, and as usual, the skilled puppet master seldom found it necessary to enlighten his marionettes as to the roles they would play.

"I am sorry Headmaster," his cool tone belied his bitter emotion, "but I have some supplies to pick up -- perhaps another time."

The spark of appreciation in the young woman caught his attention and he found himself unable to look away. Despite the fact that their fate was entwined, he knew little about her. Her intelligence, her friends, and her inability to follow the rules -- these he knew well; but beyond that she was a mystery to him. 

Hermione had been trying to politely free herself from McGonagall's firm grasp when Snape attempted to squelch the luncheon idea. She was so grateful for the small sign of support that she immediately scolded herself over her earlier thoughts. He may have always been foul and overbearing to her and her friends, but he was certainly not a madman. They had been thrust together in an impossible situation that appeared to grow more bizarre by the moment. As it was obvious that the headmaster had duped them both, perhaps (in the spirit of mutual payback) he would be willing to work with her on a solution to their plight.

Unbeknownst to her, Snape had been carefully watching as each expression crossed her face. She had moved from appreciative to apologetic -- about what he didn't know -- before her expression finally settled on hopeful determination. She was so open with her emotions that watching her face was like reading a book, and he was immediately struck by how that was an apt analogy for his required level of detachment. He didn't need to remind himself that regardless of when or why the Headmaster submitted the marriage petition, he had agreed to protect her and nothing more.

As the feared Potions Master, he had never been interested in the private lives of his students; but as a veteran spy, he knew that to be successful he needed to learn all he could about the young woman. His earlier research on his bride-to-be, quickly assembled after the Order devised their marriage, showed very little additional insight into her life. He had already known of the academic achievements found in her school records, and his fellow Professors' never-ending praise of her many virtues was reminiscent of the endless conversations he had been forced to endure from members of the Order. 

However, throughout his (admittedly hasty) investigation, there was one suspicion that he was unable to shake. Despite his own multiple explanations, he thought that the prolonged withdrawal after her parent's death was... _peculiar_. Although a certain amount of emotional distance was understandable, there seemed to be more to it than just that -- it was as if she were hiding something. He knew that Minerva had made sure that the young student rejoined her daily activities, but he still felt that the underlying detachment remained. From the reports he had received, it apparently wasn't something that others had noticed, but then as a spy he hadn't survived this long by missing subtleties.

"Severus," the old man began his heartfelt plea. "Come now -- you must have lunch, and we do have much to discuss. Surely the supplies can wait until after we've eaten?"

Standing just outside the Ministry courtroom where his most recent fate had been sealed, Snape knew that he had little choice but to comply. Years ago Dumbledore rescued him from a destructive life and since then his life had not been his own. With a curt nod of his head he agreed and caught the quick flash of betrayal on his student's face. 'You will learn,' he thought ruefully, 'that there is a time and place for everything -- and this is not the place to disobey.'

With Dumbledore leading the way -- and leaving a path of awestruck admirers in his wake -- it was a quick walk to the Ministry's central transference lobby. Once there, they easily secured a Ministry floo and headed to the Cascading Hills Inn, a private establishment situated on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The discreetly located restaurant was as well known for its strong wards as it was for it's fine deserts -- the perfect combination in Dumbledore's opinion. 

As soon as the group arrived, they were greeted by cheerful House-Elves who efficiently ushered them into a private room. Hermione couldn't help but stare in awe of her surroundings. As she sank into the luxuriantly covered furniture, she took note of the perfect balance that had been achieved between the symmetrical Persian rugs and the intricate tapestries that covered the walls. The table had been exquisitely set with the finest china, and as they all took their seats, the crystal goblets immediately filled with celebratory wine -- courtesy of Professor Dumbledore.

With a quick wave of his wand, the Headmaster added his own reinforcement to the already impeccable wards. To Hermione it confirmed that he was a regular visitor to the opulent establishment. There was no question in her mind that -- just as if they had been summoned to his office -- they were on his turf and he believed he was in complete control. 

'Well,' she thought, 'after the stunt he pulled earlier, her acquiescence would not come that easily.'

As the group perused the extensive menu, Dumbledore took a sip from his glass and then attempted to discuss the plans for the upcoming wedding. However, for each of his ventures, Hermione and Snape hastily interrupted him in an un-orchestrated attempt to delay the inevitable. 

At first, they halted the conversation with a flurry of last minute luncheon changes, which caused a very frustrated Dumbledore to order for them all. When the food arrived, much quicker than the old man had envisioned, they made sure to quell any further discussion with fortuitous mouthfuls of food. Aside from those rare occasions though, they were no more interested in eating their meal and drinking their wine, than they were in discussing wedding plans. 

Finally when enough food had been pushed around on their plates, Professor McGonagall began the difficult, but necessary, conversation. "I know that this isn't something that either of you would choose, but it is something we must deal with." She ignored the treasonous looks emanating from the betrothed couple and went on. "For the sake of expediency we can have a private ceremony in a few days-"

"A few days?" Hermione gasped at the thought of how fast this was moving. "According to the law I have six months. Why do we need to rush this?"

The older woman looked a bit flustered and reflected, "We just thought you would want to get this over with as soon as possible." She looked around the table to gauge their reaction to the young woman's reluctance, "once this has been settled there will be much less to worry about from... outside influences." She didn't need to specifically call out Malfoy's name to have it hang in the air around them.

Regardless of any problems she might encounter by delaying the wedding, Hermione was determined to give herself as much time as possible. In six months the law could be repealed, she could be accepted to an overseas university, or she could convince Snape that there were alternatives to this marriage. She knew that she would have to tread lightly in his direction, as there were obvious trust issues -- on both sides. 

Besides, she also had to think of Ron. The others at the table had no idea of his intentions, and she thought it best to keep it that way. Even though she had decided to decline his proposal for his own safety, she couldn't just turn around and taunt him with a marriage to another man. He was much too good a friend, and he deserved better than that.

Gathering her convictions, Hermione took a deep breath before calmly addressing the group. "I understand that there are _forces_ working against me, however, after hearing the Ministry's decision I believe them to be minimal."

With an ungentlemanly snort, the resident spy interjected his opinion. "I can assure you Miss Granger, Lucius Malfoy has no interest in bowing to the Ministry's decision." He actually knew that for a fact, but it was perhaps not prudent to scare her too early in the conversation.

She nodded briefly as if weighing his advice and continued, "I understand that you have more knowledge of the man, but I still feel that while at school I am perfectly safe." Knowing that she would need their support, she let her gaze rest on each one as she stated her case. "I have no desire to push this volatile situation any further than is necessary. To say that this has been quite a shock is an understatement and I feel a cooling off period would be best. Unless there are any objections, I suggest we look at the Easter holidays to hold the wedding."

When Professor McGonagall began to interrupt, the Headmaster held up his hand and bade her to stay silent. He understood that it was important to the young woman that she be heard -- not as a student -- but as a peer. 

Seeing the exchange but choosing to ignore it, Hermione continued, "It's still within the six month time frame," almost to the day she thought shrewdly, "but far enough into the school year to cause the least amount of disruption."

The visibly agitated Potions Master quickly chimed in, "I believe that complete disruption has already been guaranteed. I would guess that Lucius' courtroom antics have already made it half way around the wizarding world." 

"That's all the more reason to give it time to die down," she returned calmly. 

After waiting a moment for another retort -- and finding none -- she continued, "I think that a private ceremony is best so as to not call attention to the fact that a student is marrying a teacher." At this point she couldn't help but glance at the Headmaster and wasn't sure if she was gratified or dismayed by his inability to meet her eye. Perhaps he was sorry about deceiving them, but probably not. "That aspect alone is going to be difficult enough to handle; and the fact that many students will be home for the holiday will make it easier to avoid additional... _awkwardness_." 

Snape paused in exasperation before remarking, "It was inevitable that the entire school would find out about this marriage. There are far too many followers of the Dark Lord to think it could be kept a secret. Since it's impossible to avoid that, perhaps we should just get it over with."

In her opinion, to immediately barrage the school with a constant supply of marriage fodder was unacceptable. "If we do nothing to fuel the fire they will move onto another scandal, but if they have the entire school year to gossip about our _marriage_, who knows what kind of rumors will be bandied about." 

She couldn't help but cringe over the inevitable questions she would be expected to endure. _How long had the relationship really been going on?_ _Was he as good in bed as they had all suspected?_ And worst of all, _When were the children coming?_ Although it wasn't her primary reason for postponing the wedding, a six-month reprieve from being the center of attention was an enticing by-product. 

Taking note of the conversational lull, she couldn't help but feel rather proud of herself for stating her case calmly and decisively. Looking around the table, she willed herself to sit back as she waited for further questions. She was determined to handle all of them with the same ease and confidence, even if she didn't feel that way.

Dumbledore had decided to remain silent on the issue and allowed the couple a chance to make their own decisions in the matter. Waiting the full six months wasn't the direction that the Order had discussed, but he knew he was not in a position to argue. He had requested a private meeting on the marriage petition so the true submission date would never be made public; he knew that its inadvertent disclosure came at a high price. It would be some time before the couple fully trusted him again. Although he thought that his young charge's desire to postpone the wedding was a mistake, there was still time to rectify that decision.

Watching as three pairs of eyes landed on him, Snape merely lifted his glass in a mock toast and said, "Whatever my bride wants, my bride gets," before taking a large gulp of wine. This was Dumbledore's show after all, if the old man didn't have a problem with it then why should he?

Professor McGonagall also took her cue from the Headmaster and, for the most part, held her tongue. Reaching out to grasp the younger woman's hand she said, "I think you may be making a grave mistake; but I'm not going to force the issue." With a mournful expression on her face she said, "Just remember that if you ever need anything I am- well, _we are all_ here for you."

Hermione couldn't contain her joy. For the first time since she heard of this fiasco, she was finally able to take a full breath and relax. She still had a long road ahead of her, but at least she now had time to plan her next move.

----------------------------

A/N: Thanks to all for reading and especially to those that have reviewed. It's nice to know that you've been enjoying the story so far, and all of your comments have been very helpful in tightening up the story. Also, thanks again to NegativeNine for her beta work. She's been a big help in getting me over this last writing hurdle!!

Wonk: Thanks for the catch -- that wasn't my beta's fault though it was mine. Put that in after the last beta (I am bad that way.)


	10. Chapter10

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 10

With the wedding date set and the initial plans set in motion, Snape excused himself from the table. If he were to gain a six-month reprieve from wedded bliss then he wanted to use his freedom wisely. Especially as he surmised it wouldn't _really_ last that long, at least, not if the old man got his way. The little orphan girl may have had the old wizard wrapped around her finger for most of the summer, but whatever he had planned for her future was bigger than her childish whims. Dumbledore may had been accommodating to the young girl as she spoke her piece, but Snape knew better than to think that it had actually made a difference. It was a minor placation before the unyielding summation, and he had seen it all before.

Despite the fact that their business appeared to be complete, Dumbledore still made an attempt to impede his escape. Apparently additional mollifications were to be shared before the day was over.

"Why run off so soon? The day is still young." As he caught his Potion Master's derisive look, the Headmaster decided that some tempting was in order. He knew that the road to trust would be a long one, but there was no time too soon -- no pleasantry too small -- to start the mending process. "I've had them prepare a lovely Crème Brulee for us, you should stay and enjoy."

"Perhaps another time, I still must stop by the Apothecary to pick up supplies for the advanced potions lessons next Thursday." With the air of a condemned man with nothing left to lose, Snape casually continued, "Unless this wedding has resolved me of my responsibilities at Hogwarts?"

The older wizard forced himself to chuckle, but his performance was quickly drowned it out by the exuberant chatter of the lone student. "Professor, I would be happy to assist with your errand. I'm sure you could use and extra set of hands to bring back the supplies?"

The eagerness of her response reminded him of her first day in potions class -- minus the hand waving of course. The hopeful look on her face left him with no doubt that her request to accompany him did not come from an overwhelming desire to shop, or even to flee from the elderly couple. She was after something, and it wasn't too much of a leap to determine that it was nuptial related.

With well-practiced anger he spat out, "Miss Granger, it may surprise you to learn that I've managed to survive for 39 years without your assistance." He caught sight of the hurt look on her face, but immediately recognized it as a ruse. Now even more sure of his initial assessment he moved in with an exasperated acceptance of her offer. "But, as long as you're here, you might as well try to make yourself useful. Just make sure to not touch anything, and don't expect any detours. I have no desire to waste my time shopping for clothing or cosmetics."

He outwardly ignored her look of triumphant glee and waited as she gave a hasty farewell. As they left the other couple to their indulgences, Snape couldn't help but notice the old man's benevolent smile. He wasn't sure if he said the phrase _I'm here to serve_ more often to the Dark Lord or the Headmaster, but in either case he was becoming rather tired of the term. Masking his face with a disdainful look he swept his hand towards the door to usher her forward.

The minute they left the Inn, Hermione's mind tumbled through a montage of compelling overtures and optimistic closings. Regardless of their direction, she couldn't seem to find the right words to approach her domineering Professor. Although her goal had been to convince Snape that they could find an alternative to their predicament, she found herself unable to broach the subject. She realized that it was silly to think that just because the same powerful wizard duped them both, that they would form a long (or even short) partnership. Taking a break from her intellectual torture, she idly mused that he would have been proud to learn that his years of intimidation had done a good job at curbing her tongue.

Actually, she couldn't have been more wrong. In front of the others he had made it clear that she was an unwelcome addition to his trip. To the casual observer it looked as though he bowed to the headmaster and allowed her to come along, but in truth it played into his plans perfectly.

As the couple followed the path into town, Snape had examined her face with well-trained scrutiny. He could read the emotions easily enough, but the exact words failed him, or rather they failed her. His experiences with the exuberant student had always centered on trying to keep her quiet, so he had expected to be bombarded with foolish plans and childish tantrums the minute they were alone. He had been prepared to endure the sound of her incessant voice grating on his nerves so he could uncover the plans behind her earlier spark. It was an unpleasant surprise to him that not a word was spoken on their entire trip from the Inn to the Apothecary.

To say that he was impatient with this turn of events was an understatement. There were lives at stake and battles to be fought, and he had no time to waste on her idle deliberations. That, of course, was what he tried to tell himself -- except he knew that wasn't true. Yes, there were constant dangers to fear, and never ending plans to make, but he also had to find time to waste on her. If he were to continue in his role as faithful minion to the Dark Lord _and_ trusted member of the Order of the Phoenix, then he needed to learn all he could about her -- regardless of how long it took. Once they were wed she would no longer be a student in his class and constant pain in his arse. Well, actually she would still be that, but in addition she would also be his potential downfall.

He had lived in the balance of two masters for so long that it had become second nature to him. Get up, offend anyone that got too close, and then go to bed. It was a lonely code, but one that kept him alive for much longer than anyone had expected. After all, he was well aware that it was much easier to keep secrets if nobody got too close, and there was no need to lie if nobody cared where you had been or where you were going.

She had the potential to change all that.

This child -- for despite her age he could not think of her as anything else -- would become part of his life in ways that she couldn't possibly fathom. By marrying him, she would be thrust into the middle of his espionage work with the Order. As a result, he would have yet another liability in his already dangerous life.

He knew that Voldemort had informants all over the school, and one slip of the tongue about a rogue meeting or late night visitor and it might attract the wrong sort of attention. If that attention put her in a situation where she would have to choose between her own life, and the safety of others -- he didn't know which she would choose. It was true that she had proven her bravery on many occasions, but it wasn't difficult to be strong when you _think_ good will always triumph over evil. Unfortunately she _knew_ better now. She had experienced the bitter taste of loss and her future choices would forever be tainted by it.

Thinking over his dwindling options, he mused that he could always lock her away in the dungeon. He had to admit that keeping her away from Potter and Weasley was a tempting idea. He was sure that away from their influence she might start to think on her own and learn to make better decisions, but it was unlikely that Dumbledore would allow the dissolution of _the Dream Team_.

With one final glance at his fiancé, he knew what he needed to do. His only option at this time was to learn all he could about her, and hope that he could convince her that her silence was paramount to their lives. The fact that his most vocal student was now quite tight-lipped could be a double-edged sword. She might not let any important information slip, but it would also take him longer to figure out her plans. He knew she was up to something, and he was determined to find out what it was. If she resisted her new role, then whatever she was hiding could be used as leverage to keep her in line.

A time would come when he would have to trust her with his secrets and his life -- whether he liked it or not. He just hoped, for both of their sakes, that his trust would not be misplaced.

When they finally entered the Apothecary, Hermione was bombarded with reminders of the potion storage room. The walls were lined with jars of fermented creatures, while large wooden barrels held their dried counterparts. Exotic plants were pristinely stored in fanciful glass bottles eager to catch one's eye, and imported herbs were drying from the rafters. She had always thought that it was these simple cuttings that gave the store its finesse. Depending on the season the mixture was either a delightful aroma or an appalling stench -- but it seemed never anything in between. Many of the fragrant clusters hung on low beams scattered about the shop. While these intrusions may have given the delightful impression that you were in a world underneath the earth, it also made walking somewhat of an obstacle course.

As she watched the Potions Master make his way to the back of the store, she noticed how fluid he was in his movements. It was obvious that he came here often and not only knew the route he was to take, but each object he would pass along the way. Occasionally he would stop to make a closer inspection of a promising ingredient, and his careful consideration was indicative of how well he observed his surroundings. The man before her didn't miss a thing. His eye for detail, coupled with his intelligence, should have been intoxicating to her brilliant mind, but somehow it filled her with apprehension. She was surprised when she realized that those fears had nothing to do with their upcoming nuptials.

At least not directly.

Unlike her friends, it was obvious that a man with such a critical eye would not be easily fooled. That's not to say that she had purposely deceived her friends; she didn't even realize she had shut them out until it was too late. But that's the funny thing with "forgetting" to tell the truth, if you wait too long it's no longer an innocent omission but an outright lie. And no matter what anyone says, extricating yourself from a lie is never as easy as it seems. That was a fact she was becoming more aware of with each passing day.

After she had returned from her self-imposed exile, her friends believed her to be the same girl they had grown up with. While the similarities were only relevant on the outside, she had been grateful that they didn't question the facade any further. She didn't think that made them stupid or obtuse, they simply took her at face value -- just as friends should.

But while her friends had accepted what she gave them and asked for no more, this man would demand more. Well, except that the word demand was too strong a description for how he collected information. His formula of one part osmosis and two parts intuition was indeed very powerful, but it was also subtle and very undemanding. Given the right amount of time he would easily see though her, and then -- like a deck of cards -- all her plans would come tumbling down. That was something that she couldn't let happen.

She was well aware that his work with the Order was important, and if her secrets threatened their plans (which she suspected they might) she had no doubt that he would expose her in an instant. However she also realized that if her future were to be intertwined with his, then she would need to keep not only her secrets, but his as well. She didn't remember if the saying was "the best defense was a good offence" or vice versa, but as she watched the Professor complete his purchases, she knew that eventually she would have her own leverage over him. If there was one thing she had learned this past year, it was that it's easier to play both sides of the fence if you keep your mouth shut. Until she knew for sure where he stood, her best bet would be to keep her eyes and ears open and her mouth closed. There would come a time when she would request his assistance, but it would not be today.

When the school supplies were finally purchased, and their arms were weighted down with heavy sacks, they left the store for the journey back to Hogwarts. As they walked out of the Apothecary and into the dazzling sunshine, they eyed each other with matching looks of weary understanding. With their individual decisions made, they were unaware that a gauntlet had been cast and that they were both determined to come out victorious.

Lost in their own thoughts, they walked along the well-traveled path to school in silence. The steady rhythm of their lone footsteps, trudging along a path that was usually packed with throngs of excited students, was a somber reminder of how lonely they had both become; and as the autumn wind rustled though the expanse of trees, they were lulled into a sense of comfortable companionship.

With Hogwarts still in the unseen distance, neither of them noticed that the last bend in the road had also obscured their view of Hogsmeade. A few steps later their attention was diverted by the sudden crack that heralded an apparation. Hermione's heart sunk as she listened to the stream of obscenities rush out from under her Professor's breath. It was clear that -- although he knew who it was -- he hadn't been expecting the visit. She had the feeling that all hell was about to break loose.

A/N: Thanks to all for reading and reviewing. Thanks also to NegativeNine for her wonderful beta work!

I know that this has been going a bit slower than many of you would have liked, and I apologize for that. I'm trying to convey what I think they would realistically feel if they were put in such a situation, and that's taking more time than I thought to flush out their emotions (I imagined that I would be much farther along in the story by now.) I also know that the updates have been rather slow lately, and I'm hoping to rectify that situation (RL should never interfere with fanfic.) So, thanks for bearing with me while I sort this all out.

I've been debating on asking this, but what the heck... With these past two chapters, I had hoped to convey that the characters were frustrated with their situation, and confused as to how they should/could continue (i.e. there was lots of assessing and scheming going on.) Because of this, I'm not sure if some of the comments I've received are empathy for the characters and their dilemma, or if this has been difficult to follow. If its the latter and needs clarification, please let me know. Thanks!


	11. Chapter11

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Quick note to those that use the FanFiction Author's Alerts - When I posted the last chapter, FF.net was having some problems and as a result the alert for chapter 10 never went out. So unless you've checked on your own you may be a chapter behind. Just wanted to pass that along… Thanks for reading!!

Chapter 11

Snape's whispered comments vanished in the autumn breeze and left behind an eerie silence. Expecting the worst, he dropped the package from his wand hand, and listened to the dull thud as it hit the ground. After a quick calculation, he determined that it had held the puffer-fish eyes that the second-years would need for their Swelling Solution. Not that it mattered right now, but thankfully a slight bruising would not render them useless. He just hoped that he and Hermione would fare half as well.

"What a lovely day for a walk," a familiar voice drawled from behind them. Although the greeting appeared civilized, the contempt it carried was abundantly clear. 

Snape slowly turned to face the intruder. He was not surprised that standing before him, his regal nose held high in an attempt to peer down at the taller man, was Lucius Malfoy. With his head cocked to the side and his hands balancing on the top of his ever-present cane, he had taken on a deceptively informal stance. It was one that Snape knew well, and he was attentive enough to be wary. 

Snape quickly came to the conclusion that even with her heightened training, the absence of Hermione's wand put them at a clear disadvantage. To get them back to the castle safely, he knew he would have to handle the situation very carefully. He just hoped that -- this once -- she would have the good sense to stay out of his way. 

"Lucius," Snape replied casually, "yes, it is a lovely day..." Although his heart was racing, he kept his demeanor outwardly relaxed.

After a calming breath, Hermione turned and noticed that the Professor had positioned himself directly between her and her adversary. Anxious to get a better view of the encounter, she placed a steadying hand on his shoulder and cautiously peered around him. At once she felt the muscles under her fingers tense, and he instinctively moved his arm to urge her back.

"We were just on our way back to the school," Snape continued casually, as if their brief interaction had not occurred. Although it was clear that Malfoy had not yet pulled his wand, he suspected it was only a matter of time before that escalation occurred. So, with his young charge tucked away, he allowed his wand to drop from his sleeve and deftly caught it between his nimble fingers. Using his robes for camouflage, he held his wand in his hand and began to prepare for the inevitable.

"So I see." Malfoy chuckled slightly and then mocked, "It appears that she's already got you house trained." He gave a pointed look towards the bags and asked, "What have you got there, frilly curtains for the potions lab, or perhaps matching his and hers cauldrons?"

Snape ignored the jibe, and instead moved the conversation to a safer topic. "I'm surprised to see you here. Are you heading up to Hogwarts for a visit with Draco?" 

Keeping his eyes fixed with his opponents, Snape casually swept the remaining parcel behind him. He had hoped to complete his tasks without drawing unnecessary attention to his actions, but the flicker in the blond wizard's eyes indicated otherwise.

"Severus, dear friend, I think you know better than that. You and I have much more important matters to discuss." 

Malfoy's face was split by a feral grin, and Hermione's stomach lurched in response. With the blood pounding in her ears, she didn't hear herself gasp as Snape's remaining parcel brushed against her leg. Instinctively she took the handle that was passed to her and immediately felt his hand slide up to grasp her wrist. As he pulled her back to further shield her from any unwanted activity, she could feel his thumb trace comforting circles on the inside her wrist. With each rotation she felt herself relax and her fears subside.

Although Snape knew that Malfoy hadn't planned to give up, he had hoped that the Dark Lord's right-hand man wouldn't have reacted so carelessly. But, just as Voldemort was stymied by his hatred for Harry Potter, Malfoy was fixated with Hermione Granger. It was a well-known sore point that the lowly _mudblood_ continued to outshine his son academically. The fact that she provided intellectual assistance to Potter was just salt in the wound.

With his attention diverted, Malfoy slid his gaze off his old friend to focus on the young girl standing behind him. Taking a few lateral strides to gain a better vantage point, he pointedly swung his cane from side to side. 

The arrogant reminder of his status was not lost on Snape. He was well aware that the ornate cane was nothing more than an aristocratic disguise for the other man's wand. But, for every move the other man made, Snape matched him step by step. Hidden behind his flowing black robes, her arm still clamped in his reassuring grip, Hermione scrambled to keep track of their purchases while she listened to the exchange.

"_My dear friend_," Snape mimicked, "I don't think there is anything more to say in this matter." He gave the other man a warning look that he hoped would be heeded. It was a long shot, but he hoped that Malfoy would realize that preserving his (presumably) secret position within Voldemort's ranks was more important than his hatred of Hermione.

Ignoring the warning, Malfoy chuckled lightly and unsheathed his wand from its encasement. Examining it closely, he gave it a light twirl, and watched as blue sparks were emitted from its point. "Well, actually it's more of an… _invitation_." As he spoke the words, he swept his wand in a colorful arc to emphasize that it was less of an invitation and more of a demand.

"You see, I was planning a special party tonight. It was to be an engagement party, of sorts, for my son and Miss Granger."

Attempting to control his temper, Snape replied matter-of-factly, "Well, in light of the Ministry's decision, I think you'll have to cancel that party."

Malfoy simply laughed in response, "The Ministry's decision isn't final until I tell them it's final. I've spent quite a bit of money to acquire her, so unless you are offering a refund-"

The sheer humiliation of being treated as a prized cattle set Hermione on edge, and in an instant she had pulled away from her Professor's protective grasp. Blindly pushing past him, she threw angry barbs at her would-be owner. "Face it Malfoy," she spat out venomously, "this time you lost."

Watching in horror as Malfoy's taunting achieved its desired effect, Snape reached out to reign in the young girl. As his hand caught the sleeve of her robe, his arm came around to grasp her around the waist, crushing her against his body. 

"I wouldn't marry your son-" 

As she continued her tirade, he picked her up and felt her feet kick wildly as they meet the open air. He twisted his body, in an attempt to return her to safety, but was quickly thrown off-balance by her desperate struggles. 

"_Crucio!_"

With one well-placed curse, Lucius Malfoy was able to take them both down. They hit the ground in a twisted heap of bodies and shopping bags, and their screams of pain easily muffled the tinkling of breaking glass. With a vicious gleam in his eye, Malfoy stood over them and prolonged the curse with continuous flicks of his wand.

As Hermione lay half-sprawled across her Professor, twitching in agony, she knew she had never before been in such pain. She had been placed under Cruciatus once before, but she now realized that it had been nothing more than a naive academic simulation. It was immediately apparent that the uncomfortable tingling she had felt during her training did not even come close to matching the true intensity of the curse.

Under the practiced hand of an angry, dark wizard, she felt as if tiny daggers were piercing the length of her body and her nerve-endings were being lit on fire. She closed her eyes from the blinding white lights, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of the musty earth as it mingled with the essence of the newly destroyed supplies and the primal smell of fear and pain coming from herself and her Professor. 

With each new burst, she could feel him writhe against her as he fought to control the pain. She quickly became aware of her body as it pressed tightly against him, and their legs, as they entwined in an embrace that was mockingly intimate. As each new seizure rocked his body, she could feel him wrestle against the curse in a vain attempt to shield her with his own body. With one arm he struggled to pull her closer to his chest, while his fingers grasped at her in an attempt to massage away the pain at the base of her skull. Between bouts of agony, she could feel warm puffs on the side of her neck as he gasped for air, and once she thought she heard him whisper, "hold on," in a voice so soft that only she could hear.

The combination of overpowering stimuli, obviously heightened by the intensity of the curse, clamored for attention and made it difficult for her to think. Focusing her intent on fighting off the spasms that coursed through her body, Hermione tried to concentrate on distinguishing a pattern from each reintroduction of pain. With her face pressed into the ground, she took deep gulps of dusty air each time the curse was momentarily released, and then renewed her cries as fresh pain rolled over her. 

In an instant she felt a chill come over her as she was lifted from the ground and away from the warmth of her protector. She felt herself restrained in a vice-like grip, and was aware that it was vastly different than the comforting touch of her Professor. It took her a moment to realize that the tremors that continued to shake her body were merely aftereffects from the repeated bouts of the curse; and with her energy drained, she knew that fighting back was impossible. 

"Now, now," Lucius teased lightly, "I don't see any reason why we must… _cancel_ the party."

Snape's throat, chafed from his repeated screams, rebelled against the agonizing breath that ripped itself from his strained lungs. With the curse finally lifted, he quickly reoriented himself to his surroundings. His wand was missing, presumably hidden among the debris of damaged potions supplies, and Hermione was no longer by his side. He looked up to see her hanging limply on Malfoy's arm, and his only clue to her present state was the occasional twitch that rattled her body.

In an airy voice Lucius continued, "A groom is merely a groom, but a bride… Perhaps it's time that we celebrate your good fortune my friend."

His attention split between recovering from the curse, and scanning the ground for his missing wand, Snape almost missed the conversational shift that had taken place. Briefly halting his search, he noticed -- with some trepidation -- that Hermione was beginning to regain her composure. Although the twitching hadn't completely stalled, she no longer appeared as the parody of a limp rag doll in an oversized child's arms.

"Oh, come now Severus," he laughed. "You certainly wouldn't deny us our nightly entertainment?"

Hermione immediately realized the implications of Malfoy's _request_. Mulling over her choices, she thought about leaving the Professor behind and Apparating to a safe place; but with Malfoy's stifling grip holding her back and the after effects of the curse still raging through her system, she couldn't run the risk of being splinched. She hoped that given more time she would get her chance to run.

"Surely you will share your new _bride_ with your friends, won't you?"

Snape focused his gaze on his long-time associate and sneered in disgust. He was sickened by the lengths that his _ friend_ would go to break the young girl. No sooner had his thoughts moved to Hermione, that he saw the flash in her eyes. He could tell that she was fully aware of Malfoy's intentions, and in that moment he saw the warrior inside of her fight back.

Tightening his grip on the young girl struggling in his arms, Malfoy grabbed for her face and pulled it close. Catching the look in Snape's eye, he gave a hearty laugh and whispered, "_Imperio_," into her ear.

Hermione's mind, her most valuable weapon, quickly became befuddled. She knew that she should fight back -- that she wanted to fight back -- but she found it impossible to think straight. As she felt her mind go slack and her will power fade away, she happily though that it didn't seem all that bad to lose control of yourself. It was relaxing to not have to worry any more, and for the first time in a long time she felt free. As a wave of contentment washed over her, she allowed her head to drop back to rest on her assailant's shoulder. Her mind only registered the uncomfortable position as a safe haven from what her life had become.

With her fight gone, Malfoy moved his hand from its grip on her chin to lightly caress her cheek. His eyes were locked with Snape's in a battle that neither was prepared to lose. He could see the pathetic look in his friend's face as he ran his fingers down her throat, and wondered -- not for the first time -- if there was more to their situation than the stalwart Professor acknowledged.

"Keep your hands off her," Snape hissed. "Trust me when I say this Lucius, if you continue down this path, it will not end well."

Chuckling lightly and ignoring the threat, he bent his head down to sniff at the base of Hermione's throat. With his wand pressed to her chest, he dragged his lips up against her tender flesh and licked at her delicate jaw line. 

The muscle in Snape's jaw twitched as he stood by and watched Malfoy assault her. He knew it was just to taunt him, but that didn't make the action any more acceptable. He wanted to strike out, but in his current position he dared not. It was only Malfoy's arrogance that kept him from Apparating away with Hermione, and right now that arrogance was the only thing keeping her away from Lucius Malfoy's _engagement party_.

From the corner of his eye, Snape caught sight of his wand, as it lay wedged under a broken bottle of armadillo bile for the fourth-year's Wit-Sharpening Potion. Thanking Merlin for the invaluable find, he quickly calculated his reach, and waited for the perfect moment to retaliate.

"Such tasty skin she has," Lucius continued to taunt. "But if you aren't interested… Well, it doesn't matter who the groom is, as long as there is an available bride tonight." 

Through the fog of contentment that controlled her thoughts, Hermione heard her fate being sealed; and somewhere in the back of her mind she heard a voice say '_No_'.

The voice was small, so small that she might have imagined it, but she knew in an instant that it was right. She didn't want to end up like those other Muggle-born witches; she wanted to be free to live her life. '_It's time to fight back_,' the voice said -- this time stronger than before. One part of her wanted to cling to the hollow euphoria that permeated her brain, but another part knew it was just an illusion -- one that she had to destroy.

Locked in a desperate fight against the mind-numbing forces in her head, she began to lash out. It was awkward at first, and she wasn't sure if she was accomplishing anything; but with the voice spurring her on, and she gathered her strength to fight harder.

Feeling Hermione struggle against him, Lucius barked out an impressed laugh. "Look at the girl, she has such fire!" He attempted to still her activities by pulling her closer, and was visibly surprised when her struggles became more pronounced. "She will be quite enjoyable tonight -- perfect for this evenings festivities." 

With Malfoy's attention focused on controlling his new toy, Snape saw his opening and sprung into action. In an instant he lunged forward, and grabbed for his wand. He ignored the stinging pain as the bile-covered shards of glass pierced his skin, and raised the wand to call out "_Finite Incantatum_!" With Hermione blocking his path, he hadn't thrown anything more powerful for fear of harming her; but with the curse lifted, he hoped she would have the sense to break free and leave him a clear shot.

As the numbing echo wafted away, Hermione saw her situation clearly. Pressed up against her attacker, his face inches from her own, she did what the voice had told her to do. She let out a warrior-like cry and fought back with all her might. She heard his intake of breath as each blow connected with his well-bred frame. With what looked like little effort she was quickly pushed aside, and landed in a clumsy heap beside him.

With Hermione out of the way, Severus saw his opportunity and immediately called out, "_Expelliarmus_!" He landed the curse perfectly, if not a moment too late. Seconds before, Malfoy saw his opponent take aim and he angrily screamed, "_Crucio_," in return. The two curses cross paths, and as the wand was ripped from Malfoy's hand, Snape crumpled to the ground in agony.

Lying on the ground, the wind knocked out of her, Hermione watched as the two men scrambled for their wands. Snape had the slight advantage by distance, but his body was slow as he fended off the after-effects of the curse. Spying his own wand laying atop a pile of trampled supplies, Malfoy lurched past Snape and spat out venomously, "I'll not have you ruin my plans."

As Malfoy passed him, Snape reached out and tripped his old friend, sending him flying face first into a pile of broken glass. Swinging his body around, Snape lunged for the other man's jacket and pulled at the collar to impede his progress.

As the two men struggled, Hermione crawled over to Lucius Malfoy's exposed wand and grasped the commanding instrument with both hands. The power that emanated from it was stronger than either wand she possessed, and she almost recoiled from the electrical shocks that buffeted her hands. She could feel the sickeningly dark magic that coursed through the wood, and she felt tainted by its touch. Fighting each other, the two men had not seen her gain the upper hand, and she knew this was her last chance. She could leave now, and allow her Professor to fend for himself, or she could continue to fight.

"_Stupefy!_"

In the end it had been an easy decision. Far easier than she ever thought possible.

----------------------------

A/N: Thanks to all for reading and reviewing, I appreciated all the feedback. Of course, a big thanks to NegativeNine for her beta work!!

Sorry about the evil cliffy here, but when I wrote the last line, I realized that it was possible to take the story in a different direction than I had planned. I've actually written a few different versions of the next chapter (my original outline and a couple of different tangents) and will be deciding which one to post in a couple of days.


	12. Chapter12

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 12

Hermione's blindingly white dress billowed in the autumn breeze as she emerged from her golden carriage. The taffeta skirt had crinkled during the ride, and she took a moment to smooth the material over the required layers of heavy crinoline. Her fingertips caught on the ornate beading of the dress, and for a moment she was afraid she had ripped through the delicately intertwined lace. Looking down at her perfectly manicured nails, she was relieved to see that everything was still in one piece.

As she tilted her head back to look up at the magical cathedral towering in front of her, she felt the weight of her headpiece shift over her finely coiffed hair. With an impatient sigh, she reached up to hold it in place. In a wedding that was _all for show_, she knew it was the little things that mattered. Although she could have done without the ostentatious dress and matching headpiece, she was at least grateful for the heavy veil that shielded her emotions from the rest of the world. 

A peal of bells heralded her arrival, and she quickly looked up to meet her father's face. Like any Father-of-the-Bride, his expression was melancholy, and his eyes misted over with the realization that his little girl had grown up. Unlike most fathers however, he knew that the man waiting inside was not her idea of the perfect mate. In an unsurprising show of solidarity, he bent down to hug her tightly. Although this was only a dream, it was as if he needed to convey to her that he understood what was at stake, and he knew she had made the right choice.

Wrapped in his arms, Hermione found strength from the overwhelming feeling of security that he passed to her. Her father had always been -- and would always be -- her source of strength. While her mother had plied her with a constant supply of love and understanding, it was her father that had given her the courage to reach for the stars. As parents they had been an amazing team, but the fact that her father accepted her rather unorthodox decision gave her the confidence to see it though. So with the smiles of her family and friends propelling her forward, she grasped his sturdy arm, and they began the long walk towards her destiny.

Inside the cathedral, the crowd stood to watch the procession. It looked as though the entire wizarding world had turned out to view the spectacle, but the nameless faces were just a blur to her. Her eyes were focused on the man at the dais, the man that would be her husband. She watched as he gazed down at her with the pride one would normally associate with a happy bridegroom, and for a moment her breath caught in her chest. 

She couldn't help but notice how resplendent he looked in his black dress robes and starched white shirt. Although his attire was always formal, it was clear that these clothes would never be worn around a bubbling cauldron. This was no drab Victorian costume, perpetually black to hide the by-products of his potions work, and gone were the billowing bat-like robes used to intimidate his young students. In their place he wore heavy robes of the finest wool, and had cinched them at his neck with a whimsical silver serpent. The robes had been rakishly thrown over his shoulders to display his expertly tailored suit; and although they were similar in style to his normal attire, the textured material caught her eye. As she moved closer, she noticed that the fabric was overlaid with Slytherin-green serpents that entwined into cascading monograms. Charmed to lightly caress their lifelong partners, their movement caught the light as it filtered through the stained glass windows and sparkled lightly in return.

She flinched as he began to move toward her, and was surprised to see that she and her father had completed their walk down the aisle. Clutching his arm, she braced herself for the moment when the two most important men in her life would face each other for the first time. As he came to stand before them, Snape extended a hand to her father. Silence permeated the hall and his voice echoed throughout the open room, "Mr. Granger, I'm sure that nothing that you've heard about me has been flattering." 

With the weight of his comment, her breath hitched. She knew the hurtful things she had relayed to her parents during her school holidays, but had never thought of how that would have affected him personally. "But, despite what you've heard, I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to keep her safe. I will risk my own life before I put her in danger." 

Her heart thumped wildly as the two men contemplated each other. She was aware that the man she was about to marry, the proud Potions Master that had terrified her as a child, had placed himself subserviently before her father. To anyone else, he might have looked like a fool; but with his hand outstretched, pathetically awaiting her father's response, all she saw was his act of good faith. He was still the proud man she had always known, but one that was willing to openly accept her life as his responsibility. 

Her father took his eyes off the man before him, and turned to face his wife. Hermione quickly turned to see her mother, and cringed to find that she was watching the events with apprehension. Hermione wanted to run to her mother's side, but her feet were rooted to the spot. Instead she made do by tightening the grip on her father's arm and hoped that he would pass along the sentiment to his spouse. At once her mother's face softened, and after a brief smile to her daughter, she gave a slight nod to her husband. Her mother had always been a good judge of character, and after years of reading each other's subtle cues it was clear she had decided that Severus Snape would indeed keep his word. 

Turning back around, he gave the groom a stern look, and then reached out to finally shake the proffered hand. Hermione saw no relief in her Professor's expression or demeanor, and took that as reassurance that his promises were not disingenuous.

With their understanding arranged, Mr. Granger turned to his daughter, and gingerly lifted her veil just high enough to kiss her lightly on the cheek. A whispered, "Be safe," was all he said before quickly lowering the veil and handing her off to her new protector. She felt the Professor's strong, tapered fingers wrap around her hand, and he lightly caressed her palm as he fitted her hand into his own. After a final moment to say goodbye to her parents, he placed a hand on her back and gently guided her to the altar. 

As she ascended the steps of the alter, she heard the mumblings of a conversation behind her. She tried to ignore the disruption, but it quickly escalated into an intense argument that drowned out everything else. A chill began to seep into her bones, and seconds later she heard Snape raise his voice. Her heart began to pound wildly, and her breath came in short gasps as her worst fears bubbled to the surface. She was terrified that Lucius Malfoy had returned for her.

"How could you put her life in danger like that?" She heard someone called out vehemently.

"In danger? You were the one that ignored my idea of a safe-house," came the clear retort. "If we had sent her away months ago - when I suggested it - she… _we_, wouldn't be in this mess right now."

Upon hearing the reply, Hermione galvanized her feet and turned around. She was surprised to see that it was the Headmaster, not Lucius Malfoy, arguing with Professor Snape. As the two continued to banter, she could tell that this was no longer part of her dream. The hazy fantasy that she had been enjoying began to filter away, and she became aware that she was in a cold, darkened room, just inches away from a very private conversation.

"There is no sense in bringing that up again. You know that it was never a viable solution."

Fidgeting slightly, she moved to stretch her legs and felt supple leather skim her body. Her cramped muscles were crying out from what she suspected was the after effects of Crucio, and as the last remnants of her dream vanished, she wasn't quite sure where she was or how she had gotten there.

"How did Lucius know where you were?"

The voices were coming from the other side of a partially opened door, and as she adjusted her eyes to the darkness of the room, she latched onto the sliver of light that it provided. It wasn't enough to identify anything distinguishing in the room, but it did give her weary eyes something to focus on.

"With all due respect Headmaster, Lucius Malfoy has spies everywhere. I'm not at all surprised that he found us, but I am concerned that he chose to attack at this time."

Ah yes, that. She remembered cursing Malfoy, and then before the dust had a chance to settle, she saw Snape scramble for his wand. One look at her valiantly trying to control the powerful wand, and he quickly cast a _Petrificus Totalus_ as an additional protection to her charm. After what she thought was an odd hesitation, she heard him shout, "_Incarcerous_", before standing back to allow the thick ropes to wind their way around the rigid body.

"And how did Miss Granger handle herself?"

She handled herself brilliantly -- if she did say so herself -- and she was sure that the Professor felt the same way. Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, an odd memory jumped out at her. She had been kneeling on the ground, mesmerized by the magical ropes that slithered around Malfoy's frame, when she looked up to find her Professor staring at her with a strange -- admiration. She actually found it quite unnerving.

There was a moment of silence in the other room, and then she heard the Professor drawl, "She handled herself… _adequately_."

Adequately? Just adequately? She fumed over his assessment of her abilities. If she hadn't jumped in, he would have been on the receiving end of Malfoy's wrath. Although, to be honest, if she had stayed behind Snape and out of the way in the first place, he might not have needed saving.

The conversation in the other room was drowned out as she remembered how his surprising admiration had quickly dispersed. She had innocently asked about calling the Aurors, and was startled when he venomous replied, "Why? So you can be arrested?" 

A shocked expression had momentarily flashed across her face before she schooled it into place. Weighing his words, and their terrifying implications, she didn't dare look back at her Professor. She chose instead to avert her eyes and root through the trampled parcels -- under the guise of looking for salvageable supplies. 

He hadn't spoken to her for more than a few words all day; but once started, the accusatory words seemed to flow without hesitation. "You -- a Muggle-born -- just cast Stupefy on a friend of the Ministry."

The slight tremor that shook her hand was the only indication that she had heard him. She patently ignored his comments, and continued to gingerly pick her way through the broken glass. After reluctantly forcing Malfoy's wand over the mess and muttering a quick Scouring Charm, she gathered up the undamaged bottles, and placed them into a clean bag. 

She heard his quick intake of breath at her use of the wand. "Miss Granger -- If they catch you with that wand, you will also be charged with casting Crucio and Imperio. Lucius Malfoy won't stop until you are sentenced to spend the rest of your life in Azkaban -- if not worse." 

In an act of defiance, she continued to sift through the remaining rubble. She knew that they should have rushed back to the school -- sans supplies -- but there was something about besting Lucius Malfoy that made her feel invincible. Despite Snape's valid concerns, she was determined to savor her victory for as long as possible. She almost chuckled when she heard an audible sigh, and then two hands became four as her Professor dropped down to help gather up the remaining supplies.

The walk back to school went in a blur, and by the time they reached Hogwarts her earlier rush of adrenaline had faded. Too exhausted to complain, she hadn't argued when Snape ushered her through an obscure door that lead directly into the dungeons. The last thing she remembered, aside from her companion muttering something intelligible, was the welcome sight of a comfortable chair. Ignoring everything else, she dropped into it and had apparently fallen asleep.

"In any case, Severus, do you think you can handle Lucius?" 

Hermione's attention was sparked when she heard Professor McGonagall's voice join the conversation in the adjacent room. Hoping to hear more, she quietly slid off the chair and stealthily moved toward the door. If her mother were there, she would have been appalled by her daughter's lack of proper etiquette, but Hermione didn't feel at all guilty about eavesdropping on this particular conversation.

"That will depend on Miss Granger and her… _timeline_. I think Lucius' actions today have proven that he's not willing to back down, and given time he is likely to become much bolder. I have to admit the disclosure at the Ministry hearing will be difficult to explain, but I believe I can still diffuse the situation. Even so, I don't think that she will be safe until the Dark Lord is confident that she can be controlled."

She had been expecting this. Even when she was casting the charm, she knew that her choice to stay and Stupefy Lucius Malfoy would have far reaching implications.

"That is going to be a problem. She's made it quite clear that she wants to wait-"

"No, that won't be a problem," Hermione said from the doorway. "If it's necessary, then I'll agree to… _formalize the arrangement_ now." 

----------------------------

A/N: Sorry about taking so long on this update. After deciding on which way to go (fyi - I went with my original outline) a conversation with "the beta" dictated a slight rewrite on the chapter. In the future I have to remember to not promise updates quickly, because I feel terrible about reneging on those promises. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing, I appreciated all the feedback. Thanks again to NegativeNine for her beta work!! 


	13. Chapter13

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: There seemed to be some confusion, so I just wanted to clarify that yes, the wedding scene in the previous chapter was another one of Hermione's dreams. At some point I'll go back and clarify that, but for now just take my word for it. Thanks!!

Chapter 13

It had been just moments ago that Hermione had not so innocently stumbled across her Professors' heated exchange, but as she stood in the doorway to Professor Snape's office, she was engulfed by the abrupt stillness that had taken over the room. She wasn't sure whether the awkward silence was a result of shock from her acceptance to marry so soon or fear that she had overheard too much of their private conversation, but as she saw Professor McGonagall's eyes dart about the room looking for a safe place to land, the intuitive student surmised that it was probably a little of both. 

Under other circumstances she might have found the premise of their private conversation insulting, but at that moment, with her muscles still straining from the effects of a dark curse, she actually found it endearing to see the ranking officers of Hogwarts huddled together on her behalf. It was also quite empowering to know that, regardless of their desire to move up the wedding, it had ultimately been her choice to push forward immediately. 

During the past few months Hermione had learned that it was one thing to have a plan -- even a great plan -- but even the best plans had obstacles to overcome. She had never really understood what he had meant, but her father would often say to her, "_There really isn't much of a difference between obstacles and opportunities -- both of them will disrupt your plans. The trick is to figure out what you want most in this life and then stick to that._" 

Standing over her Professor and Lucius Malfoy, she had understood his words completely. While it was clear that she was being presented with an opportunity to cut and run, it was also clear that such a rash decision would be a precursor to a dangerous future. Hermione wasn't sure what she wanted out of life, but looking over her shoulder and running from shadows was not at the top of her list. No, this time she would choose the obstacle over the opportunity. She could still have a new life, away from the Ministry and the upcoming war -- she just had to stick as close as she could to her original plan. With that in mind, she decided put aside her frustrations at been forced into marriage, and stay to play the role of a Death Eater's wife. 

"Well my dear, I think that is for the best." 

Hermione head snapped up at the Headmaster's solemn words. For a moment she was afraid his rumored omniscience was true and he had found out about her plans to leave. Thankfully, before the telltale shock could register on her face, the occupants of the room sprung into action and she was able to mask her unfounded fear.

Amid a rush of tartan, Professor McGonagall was by her side with a comforting hand resting on her shoulder. "Hermione," she sighed and pulled the student into a motherly embrace, "I know that this has all been quite a shock to you, but the sooner this is taken care of the better off things will be." 

With years of practice on her side, she spent not more than a moment checking her prize student for injuries. Satisfied of her findings, she thrust a piece of chocolate into Hermione's mouth and pushed her into a nearby chair. Initially Hermione felt like a child being coddled and pushed aside, but as she bit into the chocolate and allowed the sweet taste to warm her body and ease her shaking muscles, her insecurities diminished. With the air of someone who had seen many twists and turns in her life, the Professor then added, "You'll see, things will be back to normal before you know it."

Through a mouthful of chocolate Hermione replied, "Yes, well... while I still don't agree with how you went about this," this comment had been directed to the repentant looking Headmaster. "It does seem to be the only option I have left. Now the only question appears to be -- exactly when with this take place?"

"Right now." The terse comment was issued with the air of finality, and as Hermione spun around, Snape put up his hand as if to wave away her complaints. "As Minerva said, the sooner the better. I will be meeting with the Dark Lord tonight, and if we are already married by then, I will have a better chance of controlling the situation. If we are lucky I will be able to convince him that, regardless of the occurrences over the last few hours, my new wife will not be a threat to his plans of world domination." Under his breath, too low for the others to hear, he added, "Let's just hope that Lucius doesn't get to him first."

As Snape silently reflected on his concerns, Professor Dumbledore jumped in to add his own thoughts to the proposal. "That won't be a problem. I've already taken the liberty of initiating the process to obtain the necessary Ministry paperwork." Seeing his young charge's expression darken, he quickly added, "Rest assured child, it was only as a safeguard. All Marriage Certificates must be stamped by the Ministry prior to the actual wedding and are valid for one full year. I thought it best to get the paperwork in place well ahead of time to avoid any undue speculation by some of the more corrupt Ministry officials."

Hermione almost laughed at his well-planned explanation. With recent experiences fresh in her memory, she doubted that had been the real reason for obtaining the paperwork -- a useful bonus perhaps -- but not for a moment did she think it was his main objective. As she looked up to rebound with a scathing retort, she saw the old man's pained expression at her obvious lack of trust. The flicker was gone a moment later, but the realization that she had the ability to hurt such a powerful wizard was a shock to her. She was so caught off guard with her guilt, that she scarcely heard Professor McGonagall as she began to outline the details of the ceremony.

"... And I think we should utilize the room of requirement for the ceremony itself. It will give a bit more privacy than the Headmaster's office -- those old portraits do tend to gossip." With a light twinkle in her eye, the Head of Gryffindor had warmed to the idea of a quickly planned wedding. Hermione couldn't help but think that, regardless of the situation, little girls and elderly matrons seemed to love weddings. While her own mother had often described the need to attend them as a necessary familial responsibility, Hermione's happiest childhood memories were spent listening to her maternal grandmother recount every detail of every wedding she had ever attended. A slight smile crossed her lips as she thought of how her grandmother would have described this event. "_How romantic,_" she would have said, "_a dashing man risking his life for a beautiful maiden. What a lucky girl to be gifted with such a chivalrous husband._" 

Hermione's smile slowly faded as she realized that not one member of her family would be there to witness her nuptials. Although she should have been relieved that her family wouldn't have to witness her farce of a wedding, part of her still yearned for their unwavering support. As if attempting to sooth her strained emotions, Hermione's thoughts returned to her most recent dream. She knew that her dreams were just idle musings, wishful thinking in fact, but she was still more than willing to take comfort in the fact that in her dream, her parents had understood and supported her decision.

Noticing that the elderly couple was looking at her expectantly, Hermione replied with false bravado, "Well, it looks like you two have thought of everything." 

"Well, not quite everything," said Professor Dumbledore. "As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, I am quite capable of officiating a magical weddings, and I would be truly honored to perform this ceremony."

Hermione glanced around the room, and not seeing any objection, she agreed to the request. Despite the uncertainty that she felt about the Headmaster, she couldn't help but warm up to the smile that crossed his face. Within seconds a frenzied excitement filled the air; but with the theoretical discussions over, the realization of her situation hit her. She was now moments away from actually being married under the Ministry's insipid law. As she quickly surveyed the now bustling room, she noticed that the only one of them to remain calm and collected was the groom. Never stirring from his seat in an atrocious wing back chair, he continuously swirled what looked to be a glass of brandy, and exuded an air of indifference to the upcoming nuptials. 

It was then that the butterflies in her stomach took flight. 

Hours before she was joyfully hatching plans to stave off her wedding for six months -- if not eternity. Now -- by her own choice -- she was about to become his wife. "_With all of the responsibilities and none of the benefits,_" she thought ruefully. As her mind capriciously wandered through visions of a proper wedding night, she felt her face turn crimson. The images of being brought to ecstasy by an older, more experienced man soon mingled with visions of wild sexual abandon. Having not yet experienced either, her fantasies were limited to the descriptions she had only read about. With a sidelong glance at the man by her side, she wondered what new and exciting world of experiences he could have introduced to her -- if it weren't for his promise to the Headmaster that she would remain chaste.

Trying not to call attention to herself, she attempted to reign in her errant thoughts -- but failed miserably. Concentrating on the activities in the room was of no help as they were centered on the wedding that was about to take place. Feeling her blush deepen, she quickly looked away to intensely scrutinize an uninteresting chart of the medicinal properties of magical plants.

"Albus, once word gets out I'm sure the Ministry will expect a photograph for the Daily Prophet," commented Professor McGonagall. "Is there something you can do about that?"

"Perhaps, but we should have one taken just in case. We wouldn't want a fabricated photo to appear in its place," was the careful reply.

Keeping her face obscured from the other occupants of the room, and willing her blush to fade, Hermione attempted to determine the root of her odd reaction to the stoic Professor. Earlier she had thought about what it would be like to be married to the formidable Potions Master, but even after spending such a short time with him, she realized that her earlier musings had only scratched the surface.

If she were to be honest with herself, she had to admit that, while she had always respected his position in the school, she had an elevated respect for the man who had risked his life for her. When she saw her Professor fighting for her, she knew she couldn't just turn her back on him. He was putting his life on the line to help her, and her innate sense of justice required her to do the same. It was just difficult to come to terms with the fact that while recanting their situation, he deliberately downplayed her contribution. It was as if no matter what she said or did, she would always be a worthless Gryffindor. Although his lack of praise was legendary, she couldn't help but lament the dichotomy of the man before her. On the one hand he appeared to think very little of her, but on the other hand he had risked his own life to ensure her safety.

Without warning, Hermione was haunted by the physical reactions she had felt in his presence. As if on cue, her face renewed its tingle as she remembered his _chat_ in the Ministry corridor, and despite the pain of Malfoy's curse, she thought of how there had been something exhilarating in the way he lightly caressed her hands and neck. The memory of his soft words of encouragement -- meant only for her ears -- brought a fresh shiver down her spine and pulled her from her introspection. With another embarrassing glance around the room, she wondered what her friends would say if they were privy to her recent thoughts -- she was sure they would think her mad. 

Suddenly the memory of one childhood friend in particular sent a fresh batch of fluttering through her. For all her earlier grandstanding, there was still one important item that had yet to be resolved. She had to tell Ron about the wedding before he found out all the sordid details through the Hogwarts grapevine.

Trying to quell her guilt, Hermione called out to the room, "Excuse me Professors, but before we continue there is something I have to do."

Turning away from the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall focused her attention on the young woman. Although she had already determined that Hermione had received no injuries, she was certainly less than presentable looking in her current state. Looking at her as if through the lens of a camera, the Professor was dismayed by what she saw. Hermione's robes, like all student robes, were designed to hide the evidence of stains. However, not even the dark color and special treatment of the fabric could hide the results of her earlier attack. They were more than just rumpled and filthy; they were ripped and tattered in places, and caked with dirt and fermented potions supplies. Her face was also streaked with grime and her hair, always a bit disheveled, was covered with dust and looked positively wild.

After a moment of light tsking, Professor McGonagall replied, "Quite right, if you do end up on the front page of the newspaper you will need to look much more presentable. And of course, you should be wearing a suitable dress."

"Actually-" Hermione started as she put a defensive hand to smooth down her hair and clothes.

Ignoring her interruption, the older woman went on, "Don't look so worried, you are standing before two transfiguration professors after all. I'm sure we can arrange for something appropriate for the occasion."

While the thought of her ancient Headmaster and her matronly Head of House transfiguring an acceptable gown for her farce of a wedding was at the very least comical, she had another thought in mind. "Well, thank you, but I actually have a dress already picked out for the occasion."

From the corner of her eye she saw the Potions Master quirk his eyebrow in contempt. Disregarding his obvious presumption that, like all women, she had a wedding gown at the ready, she held her head high and brusquely explained. "It was my mother's Graduation dress. My parents found it last year while cleaning out my grandmother's flat, and I had the Hogwarts house elves put it into storage for my own graduation. It's one of the few things I still have from her and I thought that she would have appreciated being included -- even if it was in such a small way." 

"Of course," said the older woman understandingly, "I think that would make your mother very happy."

"I thought I would take this opportunity to go back to my room, freshen up and change for the ceremony." Although she had been planning to use the time to talk to Ron, the quick assessment she made of her appearance added another task to her list. A bath was most definitely in order.

"Wonderful idea," the older woman said with a relieved sigh. She knew she could handle transfiguring a wedding gown, but she wasn't sure if there was a cleaning spell strong enough to take care of the rest of her appearance. "Oh, and we also need witnesses to complete the paperwork. Perhaps you would like to ask Miss Weasley and Mr. Potter, or perhaps even Mr. Weasley to-"

"NO!" The shout was out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Of all the bad ideas that she had heard in the past few days, this would had to be the worst. It was bad enough that she had to reject Ron's own marriage proposal, she couldn't even imagine his reaction to being asked to stand up for her at her wedding to Snape.

Noticing the shocked expressions on her Professors' faces, she quickly attempted to smooth over her overly enthusiastic response. "I just think that considering the circumstances surrounding this wedding, it would be much safer if my friends weren't openly involved."

"True, very true... perhaps Arthur and Molly could pop in," the Headmaster mused, "I'm sure they would be delighted-"

"I- I wouldn't want to pull them away from anything..." Hermione hastily interjected. If she could think of one thing worse than having Ron stand up for her, it would be his parents. She wasn't sure if they knew of his plans to propose to her, but if so, she wouldn't be able to stand the disapproval in their eyes. It just wasn't something she was ready to face. "Perhaps someone here on staff would be willing to drop by? In fact," she said as she turned to Professor McGonagall, "I would be honored if you would stand up for me."

"W- Well Miss Granger," the older woman stammered, "I would be delighted. Thank you for asking."

"Wonderful," The cheerful surprise on the other woman's face warmed Hermione's heart. With one more witness to find, she decided to leave that responsibility up to another. Slowly turning towards her apathetic fiancé, she casually questioned, "Professor Snape, I'm sure you don't need my help to find our second witness do you?" Although he hadn't moved a muscle in response to her comment, she could clearly still see a snarl begin to curl his upper lip.

Holding back a surprised chuckle, she made her excuses to return to her room. As she bolted from the office, she promised to be at the Room of Requirement in one hour. As the office door was closing, she heard her future husband dryly comment, "a woman who can get ready in an hour? I'll never live to see that happen."

Without even a backward glance, she ignored his sarcastic comment. At that moment her thoughts were focused on only one thing -- finding Ron Weasley.

----------------------------

A/N: Sorry to all for the long wait between updates. I had a major case of writer's block and it was only thanks to the constant poking and prodding, a well-placed guilt trip, and finally a challenge from my wonderful beta NegativeNine that I started writing again. I would also like to give thanks to Shiv for some great advice on how to get back the desire to write. With all that being said, I've got a number of chapters in the pipeline now (including the much awaited wedding and Snape's visit with Voldemort!!) so updates should come much more quickly from now on.


	14. Chapter14

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 14

As Hermione ran through the empty Hogwarts corridors, her mind rushed through a litany of explanations that she could use to justify her decision to Ron. Of course she would tell him the truth, but the situation required much more tact than just a friendly pat on the back. She was going to have to make him understand why she was choosing to marry someone they all despised -- instead of her childhood friend and first crush.

Panting from her sprint through the school, Hermione was soon standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. One look at her house sentry's haughty expression gave her an indication of what she would soon be facing as the wife of a Slytherin in Gryffindor territory. While the portrait had a reputation for being tough but fair to Gryffindor, her rivalry with Slytherin was a different story. "Mackled Malaclaw" she called out in a defeated rush. If the portraits knew of her plight, then chances are so did Ron, and she wasn't looking forward to cleaning up the mess that the school gossips would have already inflicted upon him.

"I'm sorry my dear," the guard exclaimed with feigned indifference, "but that's not the password."

"Yes it is," she retorted brokenly, her lungs still gasping for air. "I just used it yesterday."

"Ahhh, yes... but yesterday you were a Gryffindor, I understand that you are now a Slytherin. If you wish to access the common room you need to have the Slytherin password."

"Slytherin password?" The incredulity in her voice was clear, "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Well dear, that's because there isn't one. Slytherins aren't allowed into Gryffindor tower."

The conspiratorial laugh that the portrait emitted was far too much for Hermione's strained nerves. With her time running short, her frustration level was rising rapidly, and she couldn't help but think that this was taking inter-house rivalry much too far. "Well for your information, I'm not a Slytherin and I never will be. The Sorting Hat placed me in Gryffindor on my very first day at Hogwarts, and I'll be a member of Gryffindor even after I'm dead. Now, let- me- pass." The last words were said with the quiet intensity of someone who was not to be trifled with.

The Fat Lady stared at her in surprise, then with a toss of her head and a rather loud, "Hurummph," the portrait swung open to let her pass.

The butterflies in Hermione's stomach had increased ten-fold by the time she clamored into the common room. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the large fireplace that dominated the room, and she hoped -- in fact expected -- to find Harry, Ginny, and Ron holding court in the comfortable chairs. Since their earliest school days the fireplace seemed to be their special place. Theirs -- but not hers, as even back then she preferred the nearby tables to spread out her books and study with unabashed enthusiasm.

She heard the sweep of the door as it closed behind her, and as the sound reverberated around the empty room her heart sunk. Not only were her friends absent but so also were all the other members of Gryffindor house. For the first time in a long time she lamented the absence of her housemates. Since the negative fallout from the Marriage Law hit the school, she had accepted that she was due to bear the brunt of her classmate's frustrations. But while she knew that many of them were against her, and would have even more reason to hate her after this evening, there were still a few that could be counted on in a pinch. And she was definitely in a pinch. She had to be at the Room of Requirement in less than an hour, and she still had much to do.

As her eyes swept the room, looking for any sign of life, she happened upon the large Grandfather clock in the corner. A quick calculation of the Wizarding timepiece, something that had easily become second nature to the Muggle born, and she determined that the school had just sat down to dinner. Chastising herself for napping for so long, she bolted up the stairs to her room. Although Hermione Granger was never known for procrastination, in this instance she had no choice but to put off one of her two tasks.

Safely inside her shared room, Hermione instinctively reached to pull her wand out of the special pocket of her school robe. Amid a flash of pain, she was rocked from her feet and thrown to the floor. A moment after her body connected with the floor, her head crashed into the heavy wooden planks with a dull thud. With dark thoughts invading her mind and a sick feeling gathering in the pit of her stomach, she dropped the uncontrollable wand to her side.

Reaching up to rub her injured head, she allowed her stomach to settle as she murmured into the empty room, "Ouch! That is definitely not your wand Hermione!"

Even without looking at the discarded object, she knew whom it belonged to. From the moment she first touched Malfoy's wand she knew she couldn't contain its energy, and this latest assault strongly suggested that the wand might know it too.

"Fine," Hermione jeered at the offending piece of wood, "just stay there -- I have something much better anyway!"

With long-awaited anticipation, she jumped onto her bed and flopped over the side to pull out her treasure box. Ripping off the cover, she tore into the box and pulled out her homemade wand. Sparing only a moment to examine her handiwork, she reflected on how different the new wand felt in her hand. After spending the day without any magical conduit, and then forcing herself to use one that was wholly unsuited to her, she couldn't help but relish the completeness that she now felt.

Quickly replacing the cover and placing the box under her bed, she flicked her new wand towards the bathroom door and allowed herself a moment of satisfaction as the distant sounds of running water filled the room.

Resisting the urge to continue preening over her new wand, Hermione got up and went to the armoire in the corner of the room. Like most students, her school trunk held most of her daily supplies, but in recognition of her status as ward of the school, she had been given the piece of magical furniture to hold the rest of her belongings. While she had been unable to recover very little from her Muggle life, the few possessions she had in the school's storage, namely her mother's dress, were now located in the ornate wardrobe.

After stepping into the deceptively large armoire and struggling through piles of book and other assorted odds and ends, she had no sooner pulled out the dress when the gentle sounds of rippling water reminded her of her waiting bath. Quickly tossing her mother's dress onto her bed, she began to pull off her clothes as she ran into the bathroom.

Blissfully free from her dirty clothes, she eased herself into the large tub; and with a low groan, Hermione allowed herself a moment to enjoy the relaxing fragrance of her bath oils and the soothing spray of the tub's magical water jets. With her body and mind enjoying a moment's respite, her thoughts had just conjured up images of her waiting fiancé when the engagement ring swinging from her necklace attracted her attention. Hidden under layers of clothing throughout the day, it had nonetheless been a constant reminder of the question that had been asked -- but not yet answered.

Picking up the ring and examining it closely for the first time, she noticed how... _traditional_ it was. Looking like it came straight out of the pages of a Muggle catalogue, she couldn't help but wonder if he would have chosen the same ring if she were a pureblood. Closing her eyes and dropping the ring, she heard the telltale plunk as it struck the water and settled back between her breasts. It was no use to think what life would have been like for her if she had been born with a magical pedigree. She had been born a Mudblood. Intelligent, brave, and with all the right friends, there had never been any chance of escaping the wrath of elitist purebloods.

Dipping her head under the magical sprays she ran her fingers through the now weightless mass of curls floating in the scented water. As her hair began to untangle, she thought of how her choice to marry Professor Snape would keep them all alive. But was that enough? Surely it was enough -- by any standards it was more than enough; but his offer had come with the condition of her chastity -- and was that a promise she was still interested in keeping?

She had sat back and listened to her friends prattle on about their love lives for so long, that she had almost forgotten she had none of her own. While it was true that most of the school assumed she was attached to Harry and Ron, the two were blissfully unaware of her well-guarded desires. Not desires for them of course, at least not since fourth year.

However in light of Ron's proposal, and now faced at a long stretch of marriage-induced chastity, she wondered where their new relationship could have gone. While it was true that it wasn't going to the altar, would it lead elsewhere? Would they go back to being childhood buddies, or would this new information shed light on a budding romance? She knew that the idea of her marrying Snape had hurt him, but would he understand and wait for her -- and was that really what she wanted?

Running her fingers along her neck and shoulders, Hermione began to ponder her remaining chances for romance. On the surface it looked slimmer than usual, after all, most married women didn't generally go on dates -- but she wouldn't be married forever. Once the threat had passed -- or she left -- the annulment would take place and she would be a free woman again. And then what?

Mindful of the ticking clock, she forcefully pushed aside her thoughts, and grabbing a washcloth, she began to soap her body in earnest. As her hands roughly washed over her body, she couldn't help but think that due to her unorthodox situation, it was likely that neither man would be venturing into this virgin territory. Space may be the final frontier, she thought ruefully, but the way things were going, her body would never be explored.

Quickly finishing her ministrations, Hermione wrapped herself in a large fluffy towel and grabbed her wand to complete her transformation. With a proficient flick of her wand, her hair was dry and free of tangles, and then with a heavy sigh, she set about the unnatural task of styling the mass of curls and applying a layer of makeup. Although she had never been one to spend much time on her appearance, preferring instead a much more natural look, in this instance she felt duty-bound to make an exception.

As she began to twist and pull her hair into something worthy of Lavender and Parvati, she again mourned the loss of her childhood friendships. While she had to admit that they had never been exceptionally close, the two women would probably have had rather unique take on her present situation. Besides, between the two of them, they had a veritable wealth of knowledge on hair potions and cosmetic spells and had never been shy in sharing them.

A blissfully short time later, as she surveyed her spell work with a critical eye, Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the results. In lieu of a veil, she had twisted and plaited the front of her chestnut hair into a crown, and allowed the back to fall into gracefully sweeping curls. After her first attempt to apply a glamorous face came out looking more like war paint and her second like a happy clown, she opted for a light dusting of powder and pale lipstick. While the effect was simple, she couldn't help but think that it suited her far better than anything else her inexperienced hand could create.

Taking the dress out of its protective wrapper and holding it up to the light, Hermione was struck by how well the simple pink dress fit the occasion. The scooped neckline was the perfect compliment to its form-fitting bodice, and while the short puffed sleeves were more appropriate for warmer Graduation weather, it did add a nice balance to the full flounce of the knee-length skirt. In a moment of wistfulness, she couldn't help but think that her mother's string of pearls would complete the picture and give the entire look a demure effect.

"That's the way it should have been," she whispered to the empty room. When her mother sent her old graduation dress and excitedly asked if her only daughter wanted to wear it at her own ceremony, Hermione had accepted unenthusiastically. At the time she didn't think it was appropriate for the future Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to be seen in such out-of-date Muggle attire, but now she wished she had accepted the offer with more grace. Her mother deserved better than that.

When Professor McGonagall was talking about transfiguring an appropriate wedding dress, she realized that with Voldemort becoming more powerful, there was a real possibility that she would never graduate. In fact, it was likely that by the end of the school year Hogwarts might not even be standing. So, with the potential of another missed opportunity staring her in the face, Hermione rationalized that wearing the dress today might -- in some small way -- be her chance to make something right.

As her mind darted through a lifetime of memories, she thought of all the little things that had been left unsaid. "If only..." she whispered, blindly staring at her makeshift wedding gown. With a mental shake of her head, she pushed aside her wishful thoughts and hastily donned the dress. Once started, those thoughts were sure to open up a floodgate of wishes that could never come true.

Soon enough she was dressed, and with magically comfortable high-heeled pumps to match, Hermione pulled on a school robe to cover her attire from prying eyes. Remembering her last accident using Malfoy's wand, she used her own pride and joy to carefully levitate the extra wand into the special compartment of her school robe. She wasn't sure why her Professor had allowed her to keep the offending object, but she was sure that she would have to give it back -- and she would do that gladly.

Looking for a safe place to hide her new wand, she transfigured a hidden pocket into the skirt of her dress and carefully slid it inside. While the placement would keep it out of sight, she knew that she would soon be walking into a room with a number of intuitive wizards -- she just hoped that its magical force would remain hidden during the evening.

As she bolted for the door, taking a last quick look around the room for anything she might have forgotten, a rebellious thought stopped her in her tracks. Temporary though it was, this was her wedding day; and unlike most brides these days (Magical or Muggle), she was indeed a virgin. It might have been silly to cling to the thought that a bride should wear white, but at that moment she was less concerned with what others might think of her than indulging in an old woman's fantasy. With a mental bow to her mother and grandmother, Hermione pulled her wand from the pocket in her dress and transfigured the color from pink to white, and with a satisfied look in the mirror, she tucked the long chain holding Ron's engagement ring into her dress and left the room.

With one last effort to find her friends, Hermione took a detour on her way to the Room of Requirement and quietly crept past the Great Hall. Not realizing how late it had become, she was surprised to see that while the room was still buzzing with the normal after meal chatter, the crowd had begun to thin out considerably. Not daring to expose herself at such a precarious time, she found a safe hiding spot behind a statue and began to search out her long-time friends.

As she carefully scanned the Gryffindor table, she concluded that her attempts had been in vain, as her friends were nowhere to be found. Looking up at the school clock, she determined that while she hadn't taken that long getting ready, it was now unlikely that she would have time to find Ron before the ceremony.

"So Draco, is it true about that Mudblood bitch?"

Hearing the cackling tone of Pansy Parkinson as she walked out of the Great Hall, Hermione pushed back further into her hiding spot. If there was one thing she didn't need right now, it was to be the center of a Slytherin catfight.

"Stay out of it Pansy," was Draco's curt reply, "What I choose to do, and for that matter _whom_ I choose to do, is none of your concern."

With an adversarial laugh, Pansy sauntered up to her long-time love and drew a long manicured finger down his cheek. "We both know that's not completely true _darling_." Twirling her fingers around his tie and grasping it firmly, she pulled him into the alcove near Hermione's hiding spot.

Holding her breath, and willing herself to stay as still as the statue, Hermione prayed that their tryst would end before she was spotted. With an intimate view of the couple, she watched as Pansy inched her mouth closer to Draco's ear and whispered nastily, "I'm not about to stand in the way of your extracurricular activities, but just remember that you've already got an escort to the altar. I would never have stood by and let you ruin our names with a Mudblood marriage."

Disentangling her hands and grabbing her roughly, Draco hissed, "You forget who you're talking to Pansy. I'm not one of your adoring fans, and I certainly have no reason to fear your father's influence with the Dark Lord. I have no intention of ever marrying you, so you can just move on from that little fantasy." With a final push, he sent her stumbling backwards before turning and walking toward the direction of Slytherin house.

From her vantage point, Hermione could see the flash in Pansy's eyes as she called out after Draco's retreating back, "From what I hear Snape has already promised her to half the school. Isn't it funny that, after all your father's hard work, you'll have to line up with the rest of them to take a turn." Enraged that the Slytherin heir-apparent was ignoring her, Pansy growled loudly and stamped her prissy foot before spinning around and stalking away.

Hermione waited until she was sure that the angry witch had re-entered the great hall before exhaling deeply. Although she knew that Pansy's comment was nothing more than a jealous rage based on vicious school gossip, it stung to think of the increased prejudices and expectations that she would have to endure. Suddenly feeling more alone than she had since her parents' death, Hermione slid out from the shadows and headed up the stairway to her wedding.

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A/N: Next Chapter -- The Wedding!! Ok, I know all of you are saying, "FINALLY!!!" But in my defense, there are tons of things running around in my brain for this story and they either wouldn't make sense _after_ the wedding, or were needed to set up something later. In any case, thanks for your patience!!

I also want to say thank you to my wonderful beta NegativeNine (honestly, I don't know how she puts up with me), and a special shout out to April Grey for her calming, positive words of wisdom -- a very special lady!! Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed: Raclswt, Leyna Rountree, Ana Morales, Sapphire Butterfly, Ezmerelda, Ophelia Immortal, Sarahamanda (13 chapters in one shot - it was really impressive to see all those reviews!), crissy, sisterhood-of-the-snake, Hello. Your comments have really kept me going with this story, and after being away for so long I was afraid you would all have moved on... thanks for sticking around!!


	15. Chapter15

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 15

Having to duck into a number of alcoves to avoid being seen had hindered her progress considerably, so by the time Hermione reached the seventh floor she was noticeably late. Rushing toward the familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, she stumbled when she saw the shadow of a man walking towards the now visible door. Hearing the disturbance in the otherwise quiet hallway, he turned and walked towards her. As he moved closer the light from the torches washed over him and Hermione saw the face of her long-time friend and would be fiancé.

"Hermione, I've been looking all over for you," Ron called out with concern. "When I woke up this morning you were gone, and I've been worried sick about you."

Pulling her into a tight embrace, her feelings of guilt over not finding him earlier intensified. "I was looking for you down in the Great Hall, but you weren't there," she stammered. "What are you doing up here?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to come to here after dinner, she said that you needed your friends around you right now."

While it should have been sweet that the Professor had been thoughtful enough to find her friends, Hermione had thought she had made herself clear in that regard. However, noting the concern of his voice lacked any reproach, she wondered what details had been relayed to him. Preparing herself for the worst, she asked, "What exactly did she tell you?"

"Nothing, just that you went back to your room, and then would be coming here. Harry and Ginny must be inside by now, but I've been searching for you ever since." Looking into the stricken face of who he thought was his fiancé, Ron's concern grew. Reaching up to tangle his fingers in her soft curls, he captured her eyes with his own and whispered, "Hermione, what's wrong? What happened today?"

She had hoped for more time to explain, but as the door to the Room of Requirement opened to reveal an unsettled Professor McGonagall, she knew she had thoroughly botched the entire situation.

"Miss Granger, there you are. Come quickly, we haven't got all night." The older woman eyed the hallway with obvious concern, and as she began to bustle around them she looked up at Ron with pride and added, "you too Mr. Weasley, it's good of you to join us."

"Professor- Ron- I need to talk-" she stammered in frustration.

"You can talk inside Miss Granger," asserted the Professor, and before she knew it she was being pulled through the open door.

As Hermione entered the Room of Requirement, the first thing she saw was the matching expressions of shock and concern on the faces of her friends Ginny and Harry. It was obvious that they were aware of what was about to happen, and as Hermione scanned the room, she could understand why.

The torches that normally lined the walls had been accentuated by a ceiling dotted with iridescent light. Similar to the effect in the Great Hall, it was clearly meant to resemble the shimmering night sky. However, unlike the room seven floors below, this effect had bathed the room in a soft -- one might say romantic -- glow.

Under their feet, the stone floor had been dotted with patches of green moss, and the soft carpet reminded her of the overgrown steps of the ancient ruins. Capturing her attention with a gentle fluttering down the center of the room, a runner of rose petals floated lightly on the ground and beckoned her closer. Following their path, her eyes fell upon a curtain of ivy that had been pulled back to reveal a secluded courtyard.

While she suspected the distant sounds of the bubbling brook were merely a magical soundtrack, as she looked past the leafy veil she caught sight of a real garden overflowing with wild flowers. Spying the delicate petals that shyly peaked out towards the light, and inhaling the subtle fragrances that filled the air, she was instantly reminded of a fresh spring evening.

In the center of the garden stood the altar, and from under an archway covered in flowers and softly flickering candles, the Headmaster looked at her with mild amusement in his elderly eyes. In front of him, wearing a dark green robe that covered an expensive black Victorian suit, was the groom. Holding himself stiffly, Hermione never noticed that he was carefully watching for her reaction.

For all of the talk that this would be nothing more than a quick ceremony, it was obvious that someone had intended to give her a proper wedding. But as heartfelt as the sentiment was, all of it was blocked out by the solemn look on Ron's face. As Professor McGonagall began to help her off with her robe, Ron turned to face her. She could see the hurt in his eyes as he looked at the stark white of her wedding dress.

"Ron-" she hesitated, "I'm so sorry."

Her words were almost lost in the rush as she was pushed toward the flower-covered altar. With an apologetic glance toward her friend, she felt her hands being pulled into a light matrimonial embrace. Turning slowly, she was too late to see that Snape had followed her gaze toward the younger man. By the time she lifted her head to look at him, Hermione was shocked by the intense appraisal that greeted her.

With their hands clasped together, they completed their journey to the altar and stood before Professor Dumbledore. When Hermione finally looked up into Snape's face again, the stoic mask was back in place. With her brow furrowed in thought, going through the details of a wizarding wedding, she wondered if she had done something wrong. Although this was not to be a fully traditional wizarding ceremony, she hoped that she hadn't already made any more mistakes.

"My dear friends," the Headmaster began, "the union we are about to witness is quite unusual indeed, but one that I am immensely proud to officiate."

As the ceremony began, Hermione could hear the witnesses shuffle closer. However, a quick dart from under her lashes and she could see that Ron hadn't moved at all -- the shock and hurt still evident on his face. While she had come to terms with what she was doing and why she was doing it, her heart broke for the pain she was putting him through.

"Since the beginning of time, the Wizarding world has always had a precarious co-existence with the Muggle world -- and that fragile thread is once again in danger. Our world is in a time of great crisis, and our future is threatened by the very prejudices which will ultimately seek to destroy us -- Muggle and Magical alike." He gestured towards the bride and groom as he spoke the foreboding words.

After a moments pause, the Headmaster regained a bit of his trademark twinkle and continued, "but standing before me is a Pureblood wizard who is willing to put his life in danger for the protection of a Muggle born witch. Perhaps this is not a marriage of love, but it is a marriage of concern for others and for the continuation of our way of life. For that I am most proud to bear witness to this union."

Looking up at the man who was indeed risking his life for her, Hermione saw concern in his eyes. Seeming to read her fears, his fingers began to rub tiny circles in her palms. Reminiscent of the caress he had given her earlier in the day, she again felt safe in his presence and allowed her doubts to melt away. He might not love her, but she knew that he would protect her, and she would do the same in return.

"Severus and Hermione, I do not ask if you come into this union to love and cherish for all eternity -- for that would be a foolish request. But I do ask that you listen to your hearts, to care for each other during times of great need. Open your minds, to support each other with the difficult decisions that lie ahead. And share with each other your souls, to help guide you on the road to your future."

Removing his wand from his sleeve and pointing it towards the couple, he Headmaster continued, "Severus Andreas Snape, do you agree to hold sacred the bonds of this union?"

His voice was clear, and he answered without hesitation, "Yes, I promise."

Once the words were issued the Headmaster flicked his wand and a white ribbon wrapped itself around Severus' wrists. As the ribbon fluttered in the light garden breeze, Dumbledore turned to Hermione and asked, "Hermione Jane Granger, do you agree to hold sacred the bonds of this union?"

Willing herself to not look at her friend, Hermione stammered out, "Y- Yes, I promise."

With another flick of his wand a second ribbon wrapped around Hermione's wrists. Once the ribbon was secure, the Headmaster began the marriage incantation.

As the enchanted words filled the air, the magical ribbons began to intricately weave themselves around their partner's hands. Although Hermione was aware of the ancient symbolism of the two ribbons, the experience was far more intense than she had imagined. She had been told that they were to represent the bond that the couple now shared, and once the connection was complete the ribbon would dissolve and create their wedding rings -- a traditional symbol for their untraditional union.

What she hadn't been told was that during the process her feelings would be intensified, presumably to enhance the experience of giving oneself over to true love. In her case however, it seemed to only intensify her feelings of guilt and betrayal to those who cared about her. As the two ribbons wove themselves into one, binding her to her new husband, Hermione's eyes drifted over to Ron. Seeing her own pain reflected in his eyes, the tears that she had so far been able to hold back slowly trickled down her face.

"Severus, you may now kiss your bride."

At those words, Hermione head snapped back toward her new husband, and she was surprised to see him staring darkly at her cleavage. Raising his eyes to look at her face, he tightened his grip on her hands and pulled her toward him. Staring at the intensity in his eyes, she began to tremble, and in a movement reminiscent of a bird of prey, his head swooped down toward hers and his lips found hers in a crushing embrace.

After the initial shock of his expected liberties wore off, so did the intensity of his kiss. The forcefulness soon turned into a soft caress as he began to sprinkle her lips with feather-light kisses. With the power of their new physical bond at work, the magical ribbons melted away, and free of their restraints she felt him place her hands on his chest before encircling her waist with his own.

Surprised that a marriage of convenience was eliciting such a blatantly provocative response in her partner, Hermione fought to keep her wits about her even as his heated breath danced over her skin and ignited a flicker of desire inside of her.

As he pulled her closer, she felt his tongue dart out and caress the entrance between her lips. Still unsure of his advancement and confused by the sensations of longing she was beginning to feel, she initially hesitated and clamped her lips together in protest; but with the power of the spell controlling her emotions, she was soon swept away in a surprising feeling of euphoria.

Pulling closer to him, she could feel his muscles ripple under her fingertips, and soon she was scratching at his clothing looking for contact with his concealed flesh. As he continued to gently nip at her sensitive skin, he began to lightly brush his hands against her sides before sliding them around to cup her bottom. Seeming to understand her desire for contact, he pulled her close and pressed his hardness to her -- proof that she was not alone in their tidal wave of need.

With a gasp, she timidly parted her lips to him, and was delighted that her tentative offering was so enthusiastically accepted. As he dove into her mouth, his tongue began to fondle and stroke her in an attempt to feed his passion. Innocent of such wanton experiences, she returned his touch gingerly -- a modest reflection of his lustful gestures.

As their intensity increased, so did her trembling, and he grabbed her tightly as her knees began to buckle. Feeling herself being lifted from the ground, she wriggled lightly in an attempt to position herself more intimately with his rigid body.

A muffled groan escaped the dueling pair, and reluctantly the deep kiss became a whisper among lips. With one last soft brush of his lips on hers, Severus slowly raised his head to look into her eyes. The desire and astonishment in his eyes tugged at her heart, and she sighed from the overwhelming need of her own new desires.

"Ahem," a voice murmured gently, "look over here please?"

At the sound of the intrusion into their private world, Hermione attempted to bring herself back into focus. Looking around she saw Professor Flitwick motioning for their attention. Holding a camera and looking decidedly flustered, he was apparently intended to be a cross between their photographer and second witness. So caught up in the ceremony, she was surprised and embarrassed that she hadn't noticed him before. Swaying slightly and pressing her fingertips to her bruised lips, she took a shuttering breath and attempted to smile for the camera.

With his hands still wrapped around her body, Severus turned her toward the camera and drew one hand up her body. After lightly grazing the soft flesh of her inner arm, he moved his fingers to lightly clasp her hand. "We need to show them our rings," was whispered into her sensitive ear. As he spoke his lips gently brushed her flesh and sent fresh shivers down her spine.

"Rings?" The breathless question escaped her lips before her eyes dropped to land on the magical gold bands that encircled their ring fingers. She was surprised to see that the ribbons had indeed finished their transfiguration, and almost as if in defiance of their original intentions, the results of their bond were glowing reminders of the kiss that they had just shared.

"For the picture," he continued, "we need to show them our rings as proof that we've been married."

"Yes- the picture," she sighed again, content just to be held in his strong arms.

A second later, the flash from the camera's light blinded her eyes. Blinking against the spots that clouded her vision, she just barely made out the figure of her dear friend as he bolted from the room.

Instantly alert, Hermione pushed away from the warm embrace of her new husband and ran after Ron. Tearing open the door to the Room of Requirement and flinging herself into the hallway, she saw his retreating back at the end of the hallway.

"Ron!" Her scream echoed down the corridor, and although the sound was impossible to miss, he ignored her and continued to walk away. Raw panic settled into her voice, and she began to run toward him as she yelled out again, "Ron, please don't go!"

About to turn the corner and disappear from her life, he suddenly stopped and with a slight bow of his head, he ran his hand down the frame of a nearby window before resting himself against the wall. With the moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating his face, Hermione caught sight of his attempts to mask his pain. Hesitantly drawing closer, she opened her mouth to explain, but no words came out.

"Why?"

The question was spoken barely above a whisper, but still reverberated throughout the open hallway.

"I- I had to-"

"No, you didn't." In a flash he had turned to face her, and she pulled away from the anger she saw. "I gave you an option. That could have been our wedding, but instead you married that- that..." hesitating, she could see him clench his jaw and shake his head lightly as his anger stole the words from his mouth. Turning back to face the window, silence quickly deafened the hallway, and Hermione paused to allow him a moment to compose himself.

"Ron, you have to understand." As she began to speak, she reached out to comfort her old friend, but her gestures were quickly shrugged away. "I did this for you-"

"For me?" He mockingly laughed at her comment, "is this what Muggles mean when they talk about tough love?" Picking his head up to face her, she saw the emptiness that cloaked his features. With a trembling hand, he lightly reached out and stroked her neck before lifting the chain bearing his ring from the confines of her dress. Holding the strand between his shaky fingers, the motion caused the ring to sway back and forth; and as it caught the moonlight in the cut of it's perfect gem, bursts of colorful light danced about on the ancient walls. "I proposed to you less than 24 hours ago, and instead of giving me an answer, you wear my engagement ring to your wedding with another man?"

Closing her eyes to shield herself from his scrutiny, she realized how badly she had handled the situation. He was well within his rights to hate her forever for hurting him like that. Wrapped in her thoughts, his next question took her by surprise.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" Her eyes flew open as she questioned incredulously. "No! How could you ask such a thing?"

"Hermione, I saw you in there kissing him." The hurt and anger she had seen before was gone and in their place she saw his jealousy shine through.

"Ron- I- I don't know what to say about that," honestly, she didn't know what to say about that. Given some breathing space from the ceremony, she was appalled by her public display.

"I don't love him. I swear that isn't what this is about." Hoping this was her opportunity to explain, she went on, "and this is only a temporary marriage until things can be straightened out. If I don't marry soon then Lucius Malfoy will do something horrible, and if I married you they would have killed you." Her voice, already strained, trailed off to a whisper long before she added, "I couldn't let them hurt you."

The silence seemed to stretch on for eternity as he searched her eyes looking for the truth. "Do you love me?"

She opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure of what she would say. In other circumstances her lack of response would have been very telling, but after what she had just said, Ron had to hear the words.

"Hermione, do you love me?" He asked again.

Refusing to look him in the eyes, she shook her head and whispered with confusion, "I don't know."

Resting her head on his chest, a friendly gesture that she had done hundreds of times before, she spoke softly, "Everything has happened so fast that I just don't know how I feel about anything anymore."

She felt him raise his hands to rest them gently at her waist, and although the response seemed automatic, it gave her the courage to continue. "I'm sorry, but I honestly don't know if I love you like that, but I do know that I can't lose you. I never wanted to do anything to hurt you, and I'm so sorry that I messed this all up."

"Hermione, let's go." Hermione jumped out of Ron's embrace as the stern voice of her new husband interrupted their private conversation.

"Go? Professor, I have to-"

"Now Hermione," he snapped. "We have to go now." With a hostile look at Ron, he grabbed her arm and pulled her away from her friend. As Hermione looked back, she saw Ron standing stiffly, staring out the window. A moment later they rounded the corner and headed down seven layers of stairway.

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A/N: Although it's not mentioned in any of the books, according to an interview with J.K. Rowling, she mentioned that Hermione's middle name is Jane. As no middle name has ever been mentioned for Severus, I came up with my own. According to babynames.com Andreas is Greek and means Strong & Manly -- 'cuse let's face it, he is.

I want to say thank you to my wonderful beta NegativeNine, to everyone who has been reading, and those that have reviewed: Raclswt, Ana Morales, Ezmerelda, Wonk, Sarahamanda, Jess, crissy, Midnight Tiger, Sapphire Butterfly, chibi06, thesexyflower, Makalani Astral, Tima, sisterhood-of-the-snake. Thanks to all!!


	16. Chapter16

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 16

As they reached the main hallway of the school and stood mere inches away from the expansive entrance, Hermione looked up at her new husband and noticed that her school robe was draped over his arm. While trying to mask her fear, she asked, "Are we going to meet with Volde-" She stopped as he quickly hissed at her.

"Don't ever use that name in my presence," he spat out angrily. "I know that you bantered that name about quite freely with your friends," at this word he jeered, "but you will not use it anymore." Avoiding the large double doors, he tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her toward the stairway that lead to the dungeon.

Wondering if they were to leave the school by secret passageway, Hermione again broached her fears, "Are we going to meet with... He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?"

"Don't be stupid," he scoffed. Dragging her down an unfamiliar hallway, he shook his head as if offended. "Only an idiot would bring you to the Dark Lord."

Although his words should have started a trickling of relief, she was still unsure of his plans for her. Unable to hold back her curiosity, she began again, "Then where are we-"

She abruptly closed her mouth when he suddenly stopped in front of a tapestry of the Feast of the Cornish Pixies. Watching as the normally mischievous creatures cowered in fear, she saw Snape raise his wand and tap an intricate succession of dinner plates. As he lowered his wand, Hermione heard the Pixies scream as they dove to snatch food off the table before scattering to the outer edges of the tapestry. Amid a swirl of colors an opening appeared and stretched to fill the wall from floor to ceiling.

Stepping through the opening, Snape pulled her inside just moments before the opening disappeared, its absence leaving a plain stone wall in its wake. Letting go of her arm, he tossed her robe to the side before flicking his wand toward the torches that lined the walls. As light flooded the room, she looked around and rubbed her bruised arm while trying to shake a familiar feeling.

Having not spent much time in the dungeons, she supposed that the room would be considered comfortable. The increased number of torches on the wall illuminated the room far more than she would have expected, but in her estimation it didn't make up for the lack of windows. Directly in front of her, she saw that an unused fireplace lined the wall, but it looked like it was in desperate need of a good cleaning. Ever since the incidents in their fifth year, the school fireplaces were no longer allowed floo access and now were only operated for warmth or light. Apparently this one was so seldom used that the house elves had forgotten it existed.

In front of the fireplace sat a deep green rug that looked so thick and inviting she had to struggle to resist the urge to take off her shoes and run her toes through the pile. Stifling what she considered to be a hysterical laugh, she realized that the only thing stopping her was the large Slytherin crest that covered its center.

After such an odd mixture of comfort and neglect, she wasn't sure what to expect from the rest of the room so in the end its Spartan tone didn't elicit much surprise. A couple of comfortable looking leather chairs, a desk overflowing with papers -- many of which Snape was currently sifting through -- and a small (and surprisingly uninteresting) collection of books on a pathetically small bookshelf pretty much covered it.

Turning slightly, she noticed that next to the desk hung a floor to ceiling, dark green curtain. Although the curtain was drawn shut, she was startled to think that such a large window could be found in the dungeons. Idly wondering if it was a magical window, she carefully stepped further into the room.

Running her hands along the back of a leather chair she suddenly realized that she had indeed been there before. At the time it had been pitched in darkness, but this was the room, and that was the chair, which she had napped on earlier in the day. Looking to her other side, she saw the closed door that lead to his office.

"Where are we?" She abruptly shot out the words before she could stop herself.

Never looking up from the scroll in his hand, he answered simply, "My private quarters."

"Ahh," she responded to his lack of embellishment. Unsure of what they were doing there, she was anxious to know what their plans were for the evening. "Where are we going?"

Tossing aside the scroll and looking at her for the first time since entering the room, he was clearly annoyed as he answered her, "_we_ aren't going anywhere. _I_ am going to meet with the Dark Lord, and _you_ are going to stay here where it's safe."

While the idea of _not_ going to see Voldemort was very appealing, she wondered why she had to stay in his private rooms. There was still much to say to Ron, also to Harry and Ginny for that matter, and certainly she would be safer back in her own room in the Gryffindor towers. She began to open her mouth to inform him of that when she came face to face with his patented classroom posture.

"Don't," he said sternly before she could speak. "Do us both a favor and don't say anything." Seeing her open and close her mouth, he added, "I don't have the time, nor the inclination, to explain this to you. Lessons are over for the day, and you can stay in this room until I return."

With defiance cursing through her, she had just opened her mouth to retort when he spun on his heel and walked through the green curtain. After a second of hesitation, and filled with unsurprising curiosity, she walked over to the curtain with the intent of finishing their conversation. Unfortunately the task became much more difficult that she imagined.

Although Snape had no problem moving the curtain aside, the harder she tugged at the heavy fabric, the more solid and unmoving it became. With her frustration mounting, Hermione carefully took her wand out of the folds of her dress and whispered, "Alohomora." At once the stiff material became fluid, and she forcefully grasped the curtain and flung it to the side.

While his actions and the locking spell changed her original estimation of the curtain from a magical window to a secret passageway, Hermione was not prepared for the actual sight that met her on the other side.

The presence of a four-poster Mahogany bed covered in midnight blue was a surprise, but it was the image slightly to the left of the bed that had Hermione scrambling back from where she came. Rushing back into the parlor, and trying to sit nonchalantly on one of the leather chairs, she thought of how -- aside from the time she walked in on Bill Weasley taking a bath at the Burrow -- that was the closest she had come to a naked man -- at least Bill had been hidden under a layer of bubbles.

Pressing her hands against her cheeks and closing her mouth with an audible snap, her mind raced over the image now burned into her eyes. What she had just seen hadn't been hidden by anything at all. As a student she may have found his black, bat-like robes imposing, but as a burgeoning woman, she couldn't stop herself from admiring what his Victorian garments were hiding.

Thinking of how close she had come to ripping those clothes off his body during their ceremony, Hermione buried her face in her hands and felt her body shudder. She couldn't imagine what her friends had thought of her actions, but she didn't even want to think of how her wanton display had come across to her Professor. She had never been a very gregarious person, but remembering the way their bodies molded together while his lips attacked her senses, she felt her body heat rise. Something had to be done, and eventually explanations would have to be made, she just didn't know to whom, or how those conversations could be best handled.

For a brief moment she reveled in the thought that she would have the rest of the evening by herself. She hoped that during that time she would be able to sort out the strange occurrence that had happened at her wedding, and what it all meant, but in the meantime she hoped she wouldn't have to deal with Snape and his bedroom attire -- or lack thereof.

Bringing herself back to the matter at hand, she was thankful that his back had been turned to her while he changed. Hoping that in her surprise she hadn't made any noise, Hermione anxiously waited for him to change and return before his big night out.

A few moments later, much to her dismay, he did return. Now dressed in an expensive wizarding suit and wearing a heavy robe, he carried with him an object, which she recognized as being the mask of a Death Eater. Avoiding his eyes, in fact avoiding every single part of him and his disguise, she sat quietly as he tossed out commands to be followed while he was gone.

"No matter what, don't open the door or light the fireplace." Walking towards the door, he swept his cloak over his shoulder and began to fasten the clasp.

"I know that you and your friends have a certain panache for finding trouble, so do try your best to avoid that temptation. But, if trouble happens to find you," he paused as if weighing the odds of that occurrence, and then with a sigh went over to the desk and pulled an object from a side drawer, "use this mirror to call the Headmaster." Pressing the hand held mirror into her hand, he hesitated for a moment and waited for her to look at him. When her eyes remained downcast, he clenched his fists in anger and purposely stepped away from her.

"And now you're in a snit," he said with exasperation. Clenching and unclenching his fists a few times by his side, he took a few deep breaths before reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. Closing his eyes and turning away from her slightly, he said more to himself than her, "honestly, to see you sulk like that one would think that this was a real marriage."

With those words, a renewed sense of resentment came over him, and as he pulled his hands from his hair he snapped at her, "Hermione, it's time for you to grow up, I'm not going out for a couple of butterbeers with the boys."

Dropping her mouth open in shock, she replied quietly, "I never thought you were."

With a penetrating look in her direction, she got the feeling he was trying to read something more than just her response, but before she could say anything, he spun around and headed for the stone wall. Raising his wand and moving to touch one of the stones, Snape paused as if remembering something then turned back around and called out, "Accio wand."

Afraid that his inquisitive stare had uncovered the homemade wand tucked into her dress, Hermione quickly grabbed the flounce of the skirt to hold it in place. But moments later, even after Malfoy's wand rustled in the pocket of her discarded robe before it sailed into Snape's waiting hand, Hermione still couldn't take the shocked look off her face.

With an indifferent look in her direction, Snape clearly misunderstood her reaction and mocked, "You didn't think I would let you keep it did you?"

Numbly shaking her head and thanking Merlin for her good luck, she watched as he turned back to the wall and tapped the series of stones that opened the passageway.

Stepping through the opening, he looked down at Malfoy's wand and then with a brief chuckle he looked over his shoulder at her. It was obvious to Hermione that he had just remembered taking possession her wand the day before, and more importantly the fact that he had never returned it. Knowing this latest action would leave her completely wandless, he commented dryly, "It seems I don't have to worry about you leaving here after all."

With a sweeping gesture toward his office door, he had secured her position as prisoner, and a second later the opening dissolved and the stone wall reappeared, cutting off her reply.

A short time later as Snape reached the Apparition point at the edge of the school grounds, he suspected that Harry and Ginny were sitting in Gryffindor tower consoling Ron; but was not aware that Hermione, after waiting for what she felt was an appropriate amount of time, had just taken out her hidden wand and touched the correct series of stones to open the doorway to his private quarters.

Stepping out into the hallway, Hermione wasn't sure whether to brandish her wand to ward off any potential harm, or put it away so it wouldn't be discovered. A quick compromise kept it wrapped slightly in the folds of her school robe. It was still hidden from prying eyes but available at a moments notice to come to her rescue. If she had learned one thing over the last few hours it was to make sure she was never without a wand again.

Stepping lightly down the corridor, she was amazed at how her footsteps seemed to echo inside the empty chamber. She briefly wondered if the noise was due to some anti-curfew charm that the Professor set for out of bed students, but she quickly shook that thought away -- even Snape wasn't that paranoid. Besides the echo was so loud that it ruled out any chance for the element of surprise, and she of all people knew how much he loved to sneak up on unsuspecting students.

Thinking of how she and her friends had escaped the Professor's clutches on more than one occasion, Hermione began to skip though the memory of each close encounter. Remembering each as if it were yesterday, she smiled as she thought of the time that their need for a late night snack was almost their undoing.

Leaving the kitchens, hands full of food and not watching where they were going, they walked a bit too close to one of the armored sentries that lined the hallway, and the invisibility cloak became tangled in its massive sword. As the guard clattered to the floor -- and spilled into many, many pieces -- the three of them went scrambling for cover. Although the sound was so loud that it woke the entire castle, Professor Snape was the first one on the scene. But in a strange twist of fate Mrs. Norris (who had innocently come to investigate) was quickly blamed for the whole event. Laughing softly, Hermione still had no idea how they got out of that one.

Then there was the time that the dream team decided to go for a late night flight around the Quidditch pitch. Well, Harry and Ron decided, but they were gracious enough to pull her along for a ride or two. Between the three of them they took turns trying to fly under the Invisibility Cloak, but after watching it float off on it's own and leaving them vulnerable one too many times, Hermione finally cast a Disillusionment Charm on each of them. Her timing couldn't have been more perfect, because moments later they managed to evade the Professor on his nightly constitutional around the pitch.

Trying to count the number of time she and her friends had escaped his wrath; a very unladylike snort escaped her. Quickly clamping her hand over her mouth, she looked around and hoped that she was still alone. Spying familiar surroundings, Hermione stopped in her tracks and was startled to see that without thinking her feet had carried her to Gryffindor tower. Rounding one more corner would have brought her to the Portrait of the Fat Lady and most likely another unpleasant run-in with the house sentry.

Slumping against the wall, she head butted the heavy stones in an attempt to knock some sense into herself. It was something she did when the boys got out of hand, but the action was usually accompanied by calls of, "watch out! With all the information she has stored in there, it's bound to explode!"

Giggling softly, she whispered to the wall, "This just doesn't have the same effect without Ron ducking for cover."

As images of her childhood friend and his familiar antics invaded her heart, she groaned softly and began to rub a hand over her battered forehead. Pushing off from the wall with considerable effort, she turned and headed towards the Astronomy tower. She could go rushing up to finish explaining things to Ron, but with so many confusing thoughts running through her head, she wasn't sure if she would just end up saying the wrong thing. In the end, she hoped that a bit of fresh air would help clear her mind first.

As Hermione began to climb the steps to the Astronomy tower, Harry and Ginny were back in Gryffindor tower about to give up on Ron. Since following him back from the ceremony, they had been trying to calm him down -- but with little success.

"I don't know why you're acting like the injured party here Ron," Harry scolded. He had been pulling at his hair since before they returned to their bedroom, and by this point his normally messy hair was beginning to come out in his fingers. "You waited to propose until she was ordered by Dumbledore to marry Snape. You had to know that it didn't matter what either of you wanted, they were going to make her marry that git."

"But today?" Despite any words of reason, Ron was not about to give up any ground. "They have months before they had to get married, but you saw her, she couldn't wait to get that ring on her finger."

"Ron, that's not fair," shouted Ginny. Between pulling Harry hands away from his hair and trying to calm down her distraught brother, Ginny was losing her patience with the whole situation. "You and I both know that ceremony can make you do funny things. How many times have we heard Mum go on and on about how she cried bucket loads when the ribbons bound her to Dad, and she was blissfully happy to be with him."

Looking over at her dejected brother, she tried unsuccessfully to soften her advice. "Hermione never got a chance to tell you anything, and until she does, I think you stop ranting about this. It's not doing anybody any good."

"I'm not ranting... I'm just... I'm..."

"You've just been hit with a bludger," supplied Harry, ignoring the groan emerging from his better half. "It happens to all of us at one time or another, but really now, give her a chance to explain before you start jumping to conclusions."

When Ron closed his mouth and slumped further back in his chair, Harry and Ginny took it as a reluctant assent. Trying to get their minds on something else, Harry clapped his hands together and looking at his friends as a familiar glint found it's way into his eye. "How about a trip to the kitchen for a late night snack? We can pack up something and take it to the Astronomy tower."

Seeing his friends warm to the idea, he began his call to arms. "Ron, grab the cloak in case we need it, and Ginny, run and leave a note for Hermione to meet us there when she's done with Sn-- Ooof!"

Despite years of being hit playing Quidditch and in DADA training, Harry still hadn't been prepared for Ginny's elbow to the ribs. "What was that--" Looking into her exasperated face and then over to Ron's horrified expression, He felt his face redden.

"Er, sorry Ron. I'm sure it's nothing serious though. I suppose he just had to bring her to meet with Vold--" This time he was more prepared for the pain that shot though his rib. "I mean, I'm sure there was just more ministry paperwork to sign."

"That sounds about right," piped in Ginny brightly. "Now what do you say we head off for that snack?"

"You two go," said Ron. "I don't feel like going anywhere right now. Besides, Hermione's not going to go up there tonight."

As her friends continue to argue about where she could or should be, Hermione had reached the top of the Astronomy tower. After a quick peek around to make sure she was alone, she climbed up on a comfortable ledge and leaned against a turret to gaze up at the sky. It was a perfect spot to become one with the universe, and as she relaxed into the safety of the ancient stone building, she felt herself melt into the darkness of the night. As the pinpricks of light danced through the sky, she thought of how she had always loved stargazing -- even before she had been taught what they represented.

During hot summer nights she and her parents would set up camp in their backyard and sleep out under the stars, and as she drifted off to sleep, she would wonder aloud at how many stars filled the sky and if they all knew each other like friends. Her father once jokingly said that _having been around for billions of years, he supposed that they must have gotten along, but he couldn't guarantee that they didn't have their own set of unique issues_. At the time she didn't understand why her mother laughed and told him to go to sleep, she was just happy to know that it wasn't much different up there than it was down here.

Absentmindedly twirling the wedding ring that now encircled her finger, Hermione tried to figure out how things down here had managed to go so wrong. She knew that she had to find a way to get along with Snape, she just didn't know what had come over her during the ceremony and if that would cause further problems for them. But one thing she knew for sure, whatever it was, she wasn't going to let it ruin her friendship with Ron, and she also wasn't going to let it get in the way of her plans to do something with her life.

----------------------------

A/N: Next Chapter -- Snape meets with Voldemort to discuss his new wife.

A big thank you to my wonderful beta NegativeNine, and to everyone who has been reading and those that have reviewed: magictwinkle, Sabrina3, Arafel2, firemyrtle, Ana Morales, Leyna Rountree, Sarahamanda, Priestess Of Ishtar, barqhorse, Mona, stonecoldfox, Gondorian Swordsmaiden, Phil, Midnight Tiger, Makalani Astral, xmaverickf14x, crissy, Fallen Angel of Hell, Nymph Demon, ashley48506, sharight, Ezmerelda, thesexyflower, Sapphire Butterfly, miladysparrow, coldqueen, sara lily potter, ChicagoMyth, Sabrina Weasley, Mialana, Chibi06


	17. Chapter17

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: I know it's been forever since I've last updated, and I'm sure many of the original readers have long since given up on updates. I can't say as I blame them (I wouldn't have waited this long for another chapter myself), but for those of you still plotting along I hope it was worth the wait. As far as the rest of the story goes, the next chapter is partly written (I know, that's what I've been saying about this chapter for months now), but I have no idea when the rest will be out of my head and onto the computer screen. Thanks to all for your emails of support and gentle nagging. I am trying to turn over a new leaf (or rather turn the leaf back over to where it was when I was writing every day). Wish me luck - and enjoy the chapter! 

Chapter 17

Walking through the hallways of the Riddle manor, Snape felt more relaxed in the surroundings than he had ever been in the past. Although the layout of the stately home was designed to confuse new and unwelcome visitors, and even as a regular visitor he normally had to watch his step, the screams that were echoing down the corridor that night became an unmistakable path to the evening's festivities.

Making his way towards the unearthly sound, he briefly wondered who had incurred the wrath of the Dark Lord. Not that it mattered -- as long as he wasn't the one screaming in pain, he could live with the noise. Quietly stepping into the prized solarium, the first thing that hit him was not the overpowering fragrance from the vast array of lilies and orchids, but the faint smell of blood mixed with a large dose of fear. In the presence of the newest breed of Death Eaters it was far from an unusual scent, but it was still one that he had never grown accustomed to inhaling.

Leaning in and breathing deeply from a rather pungent Voodoo Lily, he attempted to mask the unpleasant smell as he planned his next move. From his secluded vantage point, Snape could see Voldemort comfortably lounging in his place of honor as the crumpled body of a junior Death Eater convulsed before him. Standing beside the hapless creature, was the Dark Lord's ever-present lapdog -- Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail, as his friend has referred to him, was jovially jumping about exalting each and every crack of his master's wand while vainly attempting to whip the jaded crowd of onlookers into a frenzy.

"Yes My Lord, punish him! Make him regret his failure!"

As the young man screamed in pain and the party shouted their habitual accolades, Snape noticed Voldemort's own lack of interest in the activity. Like others in the crowd, he had learned that, although the aristocrat never passed up an opportunity to show off his physical prowess and authority, he quickly tired of repeatedly performing the actual torture himself. Snape wasn't sure if it was due to his lack of corporeal strength, or if it was just a case of pretentious boredom; but either way, the recipients of each round of torture should have counted themselves lucky for the mild abuse they endured... Unfortunately many of them didn't.

As the young man whimpered through the last remnants of his pain, it became obvious to Snape that the Death Eaters were indeed beginning to scrape the bottom of the Wizarding barrel. While he would always think that legislating marriage was absurd, the scene before him was yet another example of why pureblood wizards were finding themselves on the losing side of the genetic race. At Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, he regularly saw half-bloods and Mudbloods survive much worse without even breaking a sweat. In fact, just that afternoon his own wife had endured a much harsher round of torture than this miserable sycophant was receiving.

'His wife,' he thought ruefully. How quickly he was becoming accustomed to those words.

With an angry snort, Snape cleared his thoughts; pushed aside the flowering plants that shielded him from view; and properly stepped into the solarium. His mind was clear, his senses sharp, and he was more than ready to step forward and accept his due for his recent marital activities. He had been preparing for this moment for some time now, and there was no turning back now.

With the air of someone who appeared unconcerned with their surroundings, Voldemort barely noted the unexpected commotion that had taken over the room. Languidly turned his attention from the sniveling man sprawled on the floor, he watched as his most valuable asset stepped into the room and genuflected before him. Holding out his hand he allowed his faithful servant to clutch at the bottom of his robes while waiting for permission to speak. To others it may have seemed like a silly act of servitude, but to him it was a constant reminder of his station in life. It was something that he vowed no one would ever again forget.

Kneeling before the Dark Lord, Snape dutifully performed his required ritual. Making sure to avert his eyes - an easy task if there ever was one - he paid homage to the incarnate of evil that towered before him. In an instant he felt the familiar queasiness as his actions caught the attention of two red eyes, then he braced himself for the sharp sting as the creature attempted to rip into his thoughts. He endured the pain, knowing full well that there would be no reward for the attempted invasion. He knew better than either of his two masters that his mind, his last bastion of sanity, was safe from all who attempted to enter. The occasional flood of information they would gain from using Legilimency on him was only what he wanted them to have - and not one drop more.

"Severus," the creature hissed, "so nice to see you this evening. What news do you bring me?"

Familiar with his cue, Snape slowly rose from the ground, making sure to keep his eyes downcast. "My Lord, congratulations are in order," he stated blandly. "I am now a married man." Like many followers forced to lower themselves to Mudblood marriages, Snape delivered the happy news with little interest.

"Good, another Mudblood that will be forced into her rightful place in this world," the demon cackled, "but tell me, why would this be cause for congratulations?"

Allowing himself a momentary sneer, he answered. "My new bride is none other than Hermione Granger, best friend to Harry Potter and an orphan under the protection of Albus Dumbledore. Her intelligence is quite remarkable, and her unwavering support of Potter has been a constant threat to our cause." Snape delivered the news like a falcon dropping its prey at its master's feet, and was immediately pleased with its results.

"That is interesting." Voldemort spoke the words with some reverence, and as a wicked grin split his snake-like face, Pettigrew's jaw dropped as he saw his position within the ranks wavering. "However did you manage to snatch her from underneath Dumbledore's nose?"

"I didn't snatch her at all, My Lord." Snape allowed a smile to hover over his lips as an emotion mildly resembling shock took hold of the creatures face. "Since her parents unfortunate demise, Dumbledore has come to think of the girl as a daughter of sorts. When the law was signed, Dumbledore immediately submitted a marriage petition on our behalf. I only had to sit back and play along."

"So," Pettigrew laughed with unsuppressed jealousy, "does the old fool consider the two of you a love match?"

"I hardly think so." Snape could hear the snickering in the crowd, but ignoring them - and Pettigrew - he went on. "My Lord, I believe that she is being used as my final test for the Order."

"How so?"

Snape's explanation was cut short as the door to the solarium crashed open from the combined force of Lucius Malfoy and his constant companions Crabbe and Goyle. While the obvious familiarity with the younger trio was reason enough to laugh, Snape held himself in check. He was well aware that the older version displayed far more power and elicited much more fear. It was always better not to cross them.

"There is the traitor!" shouted Malfoy as he pointed an empty hand at Snape. "He attacked me and stole my wand. I demand that he be dealt with at once!"

"Lucius, dear friend, calm down." The small smile that had been playing about Snape's lips grew to a sinister grin. As he walked towards the irate wizard, he casually handed over the wand in question. "I'm sorry that I had to go so far this afternoon, but your plan worked brilliantly."

Malfoy grabbed his wand and held it in front of himself in his favorite battle stance. "Did you think I would just stand back and allow you to tarnish my name over that Mudblood? I had a perfect plan to kidnap her, and you tie me up and leave me for dead?" As he raised his wand to attack, he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"What Plan?" Voldemort queried.

Upon hearing the Dark Lord's voice, Malfoy spun around and balked at his own obvious lack of etiquette. However, before he could drop to his knees for forgiveness, Snape had intervened.

"Yes My Lord, a brilliant plan in fact. Thanks to Lucius' attempted kidnapping, my favorable standing within the Order has been cemented. When I told Dumbledore how I saved his precious little Mudblood the old fool was beside himself with pride," he chuckled lightly before absentmindedly adding, "I don't believe I've ever been held in such high regard before. I'm not sure how to celebrate gaining such unfettered admiration." He turned to the crowd and mused, "I wonder -- does Dumbledore's biggest mistake go with red or white wine?"

Laughter met his query, and Snape briefly glanced around the room to take in the jovial exchanges of his fellow Death Eaters. They all seemed as pleased as he was about the conquest -- that is all but Lucius Malfoy. While the other wizards were busy enjoying the news, Snape saw that Malfoy's earlier anger was now mixed with confusion. Before the laughter had a chance to die down Snape turned to him and spoke with an apologetic lilt. "Lucius, I'm sorry for ever doubting you. That I failed to see your plan was a grievous error on my part, and I see now that I shouldn't have questioned you. I didn't understand how your actions were relevant to my position within the Order until it was almost too late."

Snape could tell by the way Malfoy lowered his wand that the words were beginning to sink in. "I also apologize for my rather rough treatment, however nice a touch it added. You should have seen the Mudblood go on about how I saved her - the silly twit."

Thinking back to their pre-wedding meeting in his office, he brought forth the memory of her covert looks and vivid blush. While her attempts to conceal her discomfort were valiant, she had spent so much time observing the Medicinal chart that she missed the ornate mirror situation right next to it. From his seat in the imposing (and uncomfortable) wing back chair, he had a perfect view of her internal musings, and he had delighted in watching as each expression crossed her face. "My only solace from her new hero worship will be the ease with which she will bow to my commands."

The last part was a bit more callous than Snape had intended, but as the two men stared each other down, he was granted a reprieve from further outbursts.

"Lucius," Voldemort called out, "your actions today have pleased me. You have put yourself in personal danger and should be rewarded for your bravery."

Not one to pass up an opportunity, Malfoy pushed aside his lingering uneasiness of the situation and quickly claimed his praise. "My Lord, I don't wish anything for myself. I am here to serve you and anything that furthers our cause is reward enough for me."

Snape saw Voldemort look down at his right hand man with understated pride. It was no surprise to him when Malfoy continued on. "However, I think it is only fair that since I handed over the Mudblood to Severus, I should be allowed a… _piece of his pie_."

Upon hearing the cryptic phrase it was Voldemort's turn to look confused, and Malfoy quickly interjected, "The Mudblood, My Lord. She will make an excellent mascot for Slytherin House; it will be a nice distraction for those that have been locked away at that horrible school awaiting our instructions."

"Yes, yes, very well… now that we have her she might as well be of some use." Voldemort brushed aside the issue with a sweep of his hand. "Aside from being a nuisance, the girl has no real value. As long as she will no longer hinder our plans, she is of no concern to me. I am sure that Severus will be happy to share her." Dropping his gaze to the Hogwarts Professor, he commanded, "Do what you wish with her, then pass her along to the rest. I'm sure the others will appreciate the convenience of having a plaything so close by."

"My Lord," Snape hesitated as if weighing his words, "if that's the way you would like to go then I will of course obey, but I had another intriguing idea. As I was saying earlier, I believe that Dumbledore means for her to be a test."

"One that - by all accounts - he believes you've passed," replied Voldemort with a returning air of disinterest.

Snape could tell that he was growing weary of the subject, but continued on nonetheless. "I believe I've passed my initial test, but my continued standing could hinge on her future safety."

Out of the corner of his eye Snape could see Malfoy's anger rising. He knew that the other man would not take another loss very easily, and hoped that his plan would appease him.

"My Lord," he continued, concerned with Malfoy's reaction more than any other. "I believe that if I play this right I can build on what my dear friend Lucius has so expertly started and use the filthy Mudblood to bring down that troublesome Harry Potter once and for all. Then, once she has carried out our plans for his demise, I'm sure she could be put to more interesting uses."

"Do go on," the Dark Lord hissed. "I would love to hear how a common Mudblood could possibly bring down _the Great Harry Potter_."

"Oh no my lord," Snape quickly intervened in an effort to silence the tittering crowd. "It would be a mistake to call Hermione Granger - _I mean, my wife, Hermione Snape_ - at all common." Allowing a cheeky smile to cross his face, he continued, "I have recently come to learn that this full-grown, very powerful witch, is also a virgin."

"Preposterous!" Shouted Malfoy. "I don't know what lies she tells that idle-minded fool of a Headmaster, but my son assures me she is anything but a virgin. She has a reputation that would put even the seediest brothel to shame."

"Indeed, within the halls of Hogwarts, she does have a rather sullied reputation," Snape recounted with a tip of his head, "but I've been assured that the Unicorns know differently."

Drowned out by the catcalls and guffaws from the crowd, Snape wasn't able to hear Malofy's retort, but the blistering red face and agitated wave of his wand said much about the man's anger at his missed opportunity.

"My, my," cooed Voldemort, immediately silencing the crowd, "that is good news. I gather this means I will no longer be subjected to anymore _unfortunate delays_ from you?"

Daring to look him directly in the eye, Snape boldly replied, "None at all, my Lord. I believe I will now be able to harvest everything I need to assist you with your defeat of Harry Potter."

As the smile spread across the vindictive creature's face, the crowd began to chant in victory.

"So now that we know..." Snape shouted over the boisterous crowd, attempting to quiet them down. "Now that we know how rare a find she is, it would be a waste to simply discard her - _many talents_."

Malfoy, obviously furious about being bested by a lowly Professor, stood before him with a look of pure hatred plastered on his aristocratic face while the crowd erupted in a fresh wave of laughter.

Knowing that money, being the root of all evil, was also the root of the Malfoy family, Snape ignored the crowd and kept his eyes trained on his wealthy friend. He allowed the Death Eaters a moment of fun, and then whipped them into a frenzy when he called out, "of course, once we are done with her, I see no reason why she should not make a fine addition to the auction block!"

He was delighted to see Lucius shift his head ever so slightly to one side as a glint of intrigue sparked his eye. This casual action, unnoticed by most of the room, told his longtime friend and confidant Severus Snape one thing - he was hooked.


	18. Chapter18

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns everything, I don't. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 18

With a practiced sweep of his wand, Severus Snape lowered the wards and entered the darkened room. After a moment to focus his eyes, he spied the young girl standing her ground and staring at him defiantly. Inwardly he smiled. Wild and strong - that was how he liked them.

Still euphoric over his victory with Voldemort and Malfoy, he had at first reluctantly agreed to attend the post-wedding bachelor party held in his honor. Reluctance, however, turned to pleasure when he found out that their destination was to be the most popular brothel in town -- a place where he was seldom allowed entry.

"Sit down on the bed," the austere professor shot out as he deftly slipped off his Death Eater mask.

After a brief hesitation -- enough to show that whatever her station in life, this act was occurring against her will -- the young girl sat down on the edge of the bed. With her head held high and her back straight, she prepared herself for what was to come next. She hadn't been at the brothel for very long, and in that short time she had seen and done some mind-numbingly awful things, but even she was aware of the reputation of the man standing before her, and she desperately tried to hide her fear.

Not really concerned with whose bed he would be sharing; Snape had selected this particular room out of habit. While the turnover at this particular mudblood brothel was difficult to calculate, this was where they kept the new girls, and he always seemed to have better luck with them. Casting an impenetrable privacy spell, Snape recalled that the nametag on the door - hastily scratched out over the remnants of countless other victims of this law - was Miriam. Watching the young, strong-willed girl attempt to defy him gave his sadistic side a slight thrill. She was perfect.

Regardless of her earlier outward bravado, watching him lift his wand and strengthen the wards to the room caused a shudder to run down Miriam's spine, and against her wishes her breathing quickened its pace. Right from the start her Muggle parents knew there was something different about their daughter, and they often contemplated where her _special talents_ would take her; but peering up at the darkly cloaked man standing before her, Miriam knew that this scenario had never crossed their minds. Being forced (against her will) to enter into a government sanctioned marriage so she could be abused by any Death Eater willing to pay the fee -- no, that was not what any of them had expected.

"Relax," the man cooed softly into her ear, "and this won't hurt a bit."

Her reflexes taking over, her muscles tensed up as she prepared for the obligatory spell that always seemed to follow that comment. Depending on their tastes, she would sometimes be hit with a raucous _Crucio_ to get things going, but more often that not _Imperio_ was the spell of choice. From the moment that she was condemned to this life of hell, she learned that no matter what the monsters liked individually, they all loved to be in control.

Standing directly in front of her, her owner for the evening began to lean toward her and she felt compelled to give him her full attention. Although it seemed like an eternity, she knew it had only been a few moments before his eyes seemed to pierce into her own. After a moment of fearful contemplation awaiting his spell, her eyes widened in shock as she heard him whisper, "_Legilimens_."

Hermione snapped her head up and looked around with a start. Raising a hand to her face, she brushed away a tendril of hair that had escaped its plait and, in the light evening breeze, had been tickling her nose. With a final look into the star-studded sky, and a deep breath of the crisp fall air, she slid off the ledge and left the observatory. Not once seeing the set of eyes staring at her intently from the shadows.

Not sure of how long she had been away, Hermione raced through the hallways of Hogwarts at a breakneck pace. Reaching the entrance to Snape's private quarters, she hesitated in front of the now familiar tapestry as the pixies eyed her curiously. Peering back at them, she began to calculate how much _help they could be to her_ versus how much _trouble they would be for her_.

"Oy!" She was startled from her calculations at the insistence of a rather bold pixie sporting a cluster of bananas on his head. "Are you coming in, or are you just gonna stand there all night long? These things get heavy after awhile."

Glancing around, she noticed that the pixies had gathered up their feast and were impatiently clinging to the sides of the tapestry. As she stood before them, wondering how best to handle the mischievous creatures, she noticed a number of annoyed glances being exchanged between them.

"S-Sorry," she stammered, wondering if their location as sentries to Snape's office gave them the same allegiance to Slytherin as the Fat Lady had to Gryffindor.

"I was just wondering..." she started with some hesitation, "If you were at all aware..."

"Go on, go on," shouted on elderly pixie, "we haven't got all day." Looking over at a younger pixie who was clinging to the corner of the tapestry with one hand and shoving a plum in his mouth with his other, the elder lamented, "with my luck as soon as she leaves that dreadful Snape will be back and we'll have to do this all over again!"

The comment was met with a barrage of grumbling, and as more of them joined in, Hermione knew she had found an ally -- in fact she found a whole tapestry full of them.

"A-Actually, that's what I wanted to ask you," Hermione forced herself to ask rather timidly. "I was supposed to meet Professor Snape here, but I'm afraid I'm rather late. I was hoping I hadn't missed him."

At the mention of the exacting professor, the pixies went silent and stared at her quizzically. As they looked her up and down with their collective critical eyes, Hermione heard one of them whisper loudly, "this one has been here quite a bit as of late."

Dangling upside down at the top of the tapestry, her feet tangled in the grape vines that framed a faux window, a childish pixie replied curiously, "you have to wonder what a Gryffindor is doing in the private quarters of a Slytherin."

"And at this time of night," completed another with a broad wink of his eye.

Attempting to hide her blush from the implications of the comment and the burgeoning giggles of the impish creatures, Hermione turned her head slightly and instinctively moved her hand to cover her face.

"Blimey, that's her! She's the one! It's true!"

Startled by the outburst, Hermione looked around as the lone pixie's shouts echoed throughout the hallway. Fearing she could be caught outside of her makeshift prison, she attempted to quiet the attack, but to her surprise all of the _shushing_ and hand waving only succeeded in making the situation worse. Finally noticing that the pixies were following her hands -- her left hand as a matter of fact -- with rapt attention, she realized what was causing the commotion. They had spied her wedding ring.

"So, is it true?"

"It can't be true!"

"Did she really marry him?"

"The proof is right there!"

Abandoning not only their food but also their safe harbors, the creatures began to gather in the center of the tapestry as they immediately took up the role of school magpies.

"It was all because of that law I say!"

"Oh that law, that wonderful romantic law," gushed one of the pixies. Wiping away the porridge from her head, the remnants of a bowl that had toppled off a tree branch during the excitement, she batted her lashes at a rotund pixie that appeared more interested in the discarded food at the banquet table than the advances of his love-struck companion. "To think, after all those years of fighting and wizarding bigotry they were finally free to marry. How romantic."

"The Fat Lady said it would never happen, but Ingrid the Impossible said that it was all he's been talking about for weeks," one of the pixies imparted with assurance as he folded his lanky frame into an empty chair at the end of the table. "Quite a horny little fellow if you ask me," he whispered slyly to his rotund friend. "The things he has planned would melt your knickers," he snickered knowingly.

"Pfft," an elderly pixie admonished loudly. "Keep your dirty comments to yourself, young man. I'll not have you ruining this." Quite a bit softer she added, "nothing ever happens down here. Just once before I die, I want to watch that cow Malevolence's face when I give her the what for." Turning to Hermione, she immediately brightened, "so my dear, are you here for a midnight rendezvous with your new husband? It's a rather odd location, but if that's what all the young ones are doing these days."

"W-Well," Hermione hesitantly began.

"Oh, of course she is!" Piped up another pixie as she peeked her head out from under the tablecloth. "Where else would they go to be alone, like you said, nothing ever happens here. It's the quietest place in the school, no worries about prying eyes or interruptions." Turning towards Hermione, the pixie murmured conspiratorially as she was pulled back under the table, "You've been the talk of the portraits for weeks my dear, it's about time you two lovebirds finally tied the knot."

"Well, that's all well and good," the elderly pixie interrupted in an attempt to take back control of the conversation, "but where is that new husband of yours. That wretched Snape finally left you alone hours ago, shouldn't Draco have been here by now?"

"Draco?"

"Yes my dear, your new husband," the pixie said, exasperation creeping into her voice.

"No, no, no," Hermione began with a mixture of panic and loathing. Scanning the tapestry she looked into their knowing eyes, brimming with details of the latest gossip, and finally realized what had been going around the castle for weeks. "You've got it all wrong," she shouted. "I didn't -- I mean I would never -- not under any circumstances -- would I ever -- marry Draco Malfoy."

"Oh," the elderly pixie sighed dejectedly and the other pixies began to grumble. "The fat lady said she saw you being returned to the towers yesterday, so everyone assumed you were getting to know your future Head of House and making plans for your new residence in the dungeons" she hastily explained.

"Yes, and then when the Headmaster requested a marriage license everyone assumed..." the pixie from under the table chimed in as she crept out of her hiding spot.

"But isn't she wearing a ring?" Interrupted a jam-covered pixie that popped his head out from under the table beside her.

"Yes, and then _we_ just assumed..." she trailed off. "Oh wait! That is a wedding ring," she called out excitedly, hugging her companion and covering herself in jam for her efforts.

"Which means there _was_ a wedding," someone called out.

"And a groom," added a third, and soon the entire tapestry was again engrossed in the story.

Sitting back on the settee, his appetite satiated from newly gathered information, Snape stole a moment to relax. Looking over at the slightly dazed girl slouched on the bed; he began to formulate his cover story. He knew Miriam - or Mimi as her family called her - wouldn't be talking to anyone else tonight, but he hadn't gotten this far in life without taking care of the smallest details.

Clearing his throat and coughing from the dryness that suddenly filled his lungs, Snape was reminded of his earlier suffering at the hands of Lucius Malfoy. Lying face down in the dirt and enduring Malfoy's repeated bouts of _Crucio_ was yet another illustration of how the war was ravaging both his body and mind -- while his dear friend was able to coast along without a care in the world.

He had to be honest with himself on this point though, because while lying face down in the dirt was never fun, that was not really the root of his problems. In his estimation, casting spells on others was easy, but vigilantly guarding your own mind while ransacking the minds of others? That took far more effort to maintain than most people realized, and the fact that he was required to do that on a daily basis was of his own doing and something that couldn't be blamed on the blond-haired buffoon.

"I'm getting too old for this line of work," he croaked through strained vocal chords.

Reluctantly pulling himself from his resting place, Snape regained his position before the unlikely informant. Looking into her eyes again, he called out, "_Obliviate_." As the spell began to seep into her, he saw her wan look began to clear and hoped he had chosen the right story. He had originally thought about replacing his visit with a carbon copy of one of her many evenings at the brothel, but under the circumstances, he ultimately decided on something a bit more appealing.

Knowing that every convincing lie keeps somewhat to the truth, Snape made sure that she remembered seeing an imposing Death Eater enter her room. Obviously looking for an evening of debauchery, the powerful wizard hit her with a strong _Crucio_ to set the mood. Unable to see his face behind the customary mask, Mimi could tell from his ostentatious gestures that he believed himself to be a man of unparalleled power and required total subservience in others -- especially if it meant he had free reign to lash out at the weak and powerless.

Tossing her trembling body onto the bed, the Death Eater sat down next to her and began to trail his fingers along the thin material of her bodice. As the waves of pain from the curse began to lift, she was immediately assaulted by the dark stranger as he moved his body on top of her. Stifling her with his weight, he whispered vile obscenities in her ear as he began to massage her tender breasts with rough hands.

"You are nothing more than a Mudblood for hire," the dark man whispered, his voice filled with venom. "You may taunt many in the Pureblood race with that luscious body, but like any good slave, your rightful place will always be in service to your master."

Seeing her tremble at his words, he added cruelly, "Don't be afraid little one, I will give you ample opportunity to service me... in fact, I do believe you will service me over and over again tonight."

Turning her head to the side, she tried to hide the hot tears that had begun to run down her cheek. It wasn't as if this treatment was new to her, but it was something she vowed she would never get used to. Normally she tried to occupy her mind with other thoughts while the streams of men abused her body, but before she was able to disassociate from her surroundings, her master suddenly pushed himself away from her. His greedy hands, apparently finished with kneading her breasts, gripped her bodice, and for a moment she felt herself being lifted off the bed.

"Look at me," he shouted. "I paid good money for you, and I'll not have you ruin my evening!"

His angry words rang throughout the room, and although her fervent wish _was_ to ruin his evening, she knew better then to disobey. Holding her breath in fear of what was to happen next, she slowly turned her head to face him and gasped as he ripped apart the sheer material to expose her breasts.

Tossing her onto the bed, the Death Eater watched with delight as her ample bosoms quivered as she hit the soft mattress. Grateful that they were liberated from their confines, he lightly pushed at his mask to allow his lips to welcome them. Upon hearing the young girl moan in delight, he responded with a deep-throated laugh in kind. This was going to be too easy.

Pushing himself away from his feast, he quickly adjusted his mask before raising his head to meet her eyes. Seeing her shudder in fear, the Death Eater laughed again before jumping of the bed and grabbing a handful of her hair.

"Unbutton my pants," he barked while pulling her head towards his groin. "I have a very large treat for you." Feeling her resist his efforts, he leaned over and spat out, "there is no use dawdling, it's something you will become very well acquainted with this evening."

With a look of pure hatred, Mimi slowly unbuttoned his pants and watched as they dropped to the floor. Unwilling to look at his naked body, she averted her eyes so as to not see his erection until the last possible moment. Moving her hands to touch him, she tentatively inched her fingers up his leg in search of the supposed _treat_.

Reaching the end of his leg, she hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to continue. As many times as she had been in this position, there was something different about this time -- but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Not wanting to anger him any further, she gave her attention to matter at hand, and was surprised to come in contact with something she had never felt before. Realization finally hitting her, she opened her eyes in shock and found herself face-to-face -- not with the large _treat_ she had been expecting, but with his itsy-bitsy, flaccid member.

She was barely able to avert the shocked laugh from escaping her lips, but having never been in this position before, she was still unsure of how to proceed. Should she coax the little guy out of his shell, or just sit and wait it out?

Taking another long look, she couldn't help thinking that the sad, pathetically limp penis looked so small that, even if it were fully inflated, it would never be able to do its job. As her thoughts ran wild, she felt the need to stifle back a giggle as childhood visions of "the little engine that could" ran through her mind.

Hearing the snort escape from his companion, the Death Eater realized all was not well, and quickly tossed her aside in a fit of rage. Mimi hit the floor with a loud thump, and looked up just in time to see the pitiful excuse for a monster take matters into his own hands -- literally.

Watching him rapidly work himself over in a pathetic desire to bring on an erection, she couldn't help but feel disgusted. As the sweat began to drip down his body from the utter futility of his actions, Mimi raised her head to look him square in the eye. At that moment, she vowed to never let any man control her again.

Blaming her for his inability to perform, Mimi felt the impact of a strong backhand her across the face just before she tumbled to the ground. Momentarily reeling from the blow, she turn back just in time to see the coward pull up his pants before heading for the door.

Snape knew that he only needed to leave the young girl with a memory in which she was in control, rather than being controlled by others, but as he thought over the day's events, he quietly amended the end of the story.

So, as the Death Eater walked from the room, her memory now included a brief glimpse of the coward as his mask inadvertently slipped off his face. Snape couldn't help but smile as the sly grin formed on the young girl's face. The story might never go any further than the two of them, but he knew that it would be something neither one of them would forget. It was not that often that a Mudblood got to see Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man, looking so... inadequate.

Satisfied that the story had taken hold in her memory, Snape turned away and walked to the door. Just before he lifted the wards, he cast a strong sleeping spell on the young girl. Not waiting around as she toppled carelessly off the bed, he flung open the door and called out "_Avada Kedavra_" with as much venom as he could muster. Amid of swirl of deadly sparks, her body hit the floor with a hollow thud and soon the hallway was filled with multiple Death Eaters in various states of undress.

"Snape! Why did you do that?" Yelled out a man sporting nothing but his mask and a full erection.

"That's why we don't let you in here," snarled another, fully dressed and apparently waiting for his turn. "You kill all the new girls before we all get our fun."

Pushing past them, Snape yelled out to the house elf lurking in the corner, "take care of that one for me. I don't want that corpse stinking up this fine establishment."

Turning to his fellow revelers, he mockingly explained, "Don't despair dear friends, I managed to save all of you from a most horrendous evening."

As Snape walked away from the furor, nobody noticed Winkey, their most trusted house elf, dispose of the dead rat in the corner of the room and spirit away yet another of her Master Snape's heavily sedated young girls.


End file.
